Chasing Amber
by fantasyfun0311
Summary: Dean Winchester is a grown man. She's eighteen. Amber Bennett was running away from someone, running right into a certain Winchester's arms- but will he let her stay there? There's a witch, a clever king of hell, and a curious angel who seem to think he should. (AU) (M) (Dean/OC)
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Supernatural!

All other characters are mine :)

(Amber)

My feet hit the pavement in a way they never had before.

Two small feet, a trillion blistering tears, nothing but the wind at my back to keep me company.

The street was dark, but for me that was okay; I didn't need anyone to witness me now. My chest heaved at the idea of anyone, _anyone_ seeing me as I fell apart.

My jeans were torn in three places, I was missing a shoe.

I knew that the left strap on my tank top was shredded to bits, but the right one was holding up fine.

The street lights overhead were dim.

I swiped a hand over my face, wincing at the sight of my own blood as it's ruby red color dripped from my palm.

Looking in either direction I knew that no matter which way I chose to go, I would never, _never_ go back to the home I'd just vacated.

 _Never, ever._

I could hear the distant sounds of sirens, and my feet hit the pavement even harder than before. My blonde hair fanned out around me as I rounded a bend, falling into the beam of two bright headlights. I gasped as the car ahead of me screeched to a stop, the sound of Zeppelin seeping from the open windows.

Both doors opened and two tall men stepped out into the darkness. The headlights blinded me, but when they rounded that halogen halo, I could see they were both watching me with concern.

The taller one, who had dark hair and bright hazel eyes, stepped towards me with his hands held out.

"Are you alright?," He asked me gently.

 _He's handsome._

I fell back onto my hands, shaking my head as he neared me.

"Don't- don't touch me," I whispered.

I sounded weak and I hated it; after what I'd survived, I should have been _stronger._

 _Don't say a fucking wor-_

"Miss? Let me help you up," The shorter one said.

I turned to look at him then, pausing when his face came into focus.

 _He's beautiful._

His green eyes were narrowed in on me like I was a math equation, but I just shook my head.

"Come on, darlin'. You're bleeding. Let me help you up," He murmured.

His gaze never left my face as he studied me silently, sitting back on his haunches with his right hand extended.

I wanted to take it.

"We won't hurt you," The taller one said.

I slowly moved to stand on my own two feet and held my own hands out to ward off their touch.

"I'm fine," I answered shakily.

The green eyed man nodded slowly as the taller one stepped even closer.

"Do you want us to take you somewhere? You should really get that nose checked out," He said.

I once again reached up to feel my face, wincing when more tears fell. I could feel the split on the bridge of my nose, the swelling around my eye.

"I'm fine."

The taller one cleared his throat and peeked over at his friend.

They shared a glance, speaking without even opening their mouths, and I stepped back from both of them.

"No offense, sweetheart, but you look like somebody beat the crap out of you."

I closed my eyes at the memories that flooded to the surface, the images that bombarded me, the echoes of a past I just needed to _escape._

"Where are you guys headed?"

Asking them that was completely out of character; who in their right mind would get into the car with two strangers, and leave with them?

 _Someone desperate to start over._

 _Someone desperate to survive._

"Kansas."

I glanced back towards the end of street, towards the flashing blue and red lights.

"Take me with you. To Kansas," I breathed.

Stranger one looked at stranger two and I hissed between my teeth when they stuttered.

" _Please."_

"Get in, darlin'."

I stepped around the green eyed stranger watching me like he _knew_ me, and I sighed with relief when the scent of clean leather hit my nose.

"My name is Amber."

The taller one leaned over the back of the seat and smiled at me.

"I'm Sam. That's my brother, Dean."

I tried to smile in return, but my face hurt too badly.

"Look, we've had our fair share of bumps and bruises...I can set that nose for you," Sam offered.

I nodded eagerly, aware of the fact that the pain wouldn't lessen until he did so.

He climbed over the seat, sitting beside me with one leg bent beneath him.

"This is gonna hurt."

"I know," I said truthfully.

In that moment Sam knew that I had been through this before, and his expression darkened.

In that moment, both men knew just how _weak_ I really was.

In that moment I was so grateful that they'd taken me with them I would have done _anything_ they wanted.

With an easy grip, he pressed the break of my nose between his fingers and told me to inhale deeply. As I slowly exhaled he snapped my nose back into place and I cried out, startling Dean in the front seat.

My eyes watered involuntarily, tears catching on his hands as he pulled them away.

"Thank you," I said.

He smiled at me, gesturing to my face.

"What happened?"

I tried to tug my shirt further up on my chest, tried to hide the shame on my face.

"I fell."

Dean scoffed from the front seat and I winced at the sound.

"Try again."

His voice was husky, deep, rough like the underside of a piece of sandpaper.

It grated across my skin like a stiff breeze, causing goosebumps.

Sam tilted my face to the side with the tips of his fingers, assessing the damage with a bright flash light.

"Someone hurt you. You don't have to worry about that with us, Amber. You're safe."

Those words caused a quake inside of me that was both scary and necessary all at the same time.

I was still moved from the sound of Dean's voice, I was still shaking from the traumatic events of my evening. I was _still_ afraid that I was making a big mistake in leaving with complete strangers.

Yet the steady sound of the engine lulled me into a more relaxed state. The heady tunes of Zeppelin eased some of my heart ache.

The fact that I was covered in my own blood and bruises seemed to settle a little less viciously as Sam sat back against the seat beside me and kept a watchful eye on me.

"You can sleep if you want, Amber. We'll make sure you're safe."

Sam's words were simple, but they sounded so heavy.

To me, a woman who was often used and abused, his words formed a bond between us that no one- _no one-_ could ever break.

(Dean)

She was a tiny little thing. Looked barely legal, but she had a defiant tilt to her chin that told me she was a little warrior. Scuffed, scraped, and bruised, she was a gorgeous woman. Her wide unusual eyes were like those of a wounded doe and I wanted to help her.

I couldn't help but notice that perfect mouth of hers. When she'd practically begged to come with us, Sammy and I both realized that the case we'd just caught had nothing to do with the supernatural. No, today the monsters we fought were none other than human, and Sammy and I knew better than anyone that humans could be the worst kind of evil.

It was obvious that Amber had been through this before-whatever _this_ was- and she wasn't giving us a damn clue as to how to help her.

She'd fallen asleep against Sammy's shoulder two hours earlier with her torn shirt still clutched in her tight grip.

Sam cleared his throat.

"Someone may come looking for her."

"Let 'em."

He smiled at me in that way that told he wouldn't mind if they did.

"She's roughed up real bad, Dean."

"I know."

"She's bleeding through her jeans," He said with a glance in her direction.

"What do you mean?," I asked, looking at him through the rear view mirror.

"I mean, I don't think they stopped with just her face," Sam said.

It dawned on me then, when he looked pointedly at the crotch of her jeans.

"You think somebody raped her?"

Sam sighed and nodded, running his hands through his long hair.

I swore under my breath, wondering who the hell could hurt such a...small creature?

 _Anyone who wanted what she wouldn't give._

Truth was a hard pill to swallow as I peeked at her myself and saw what Sam was referring to.

"There's a reason she was willing to get into the car with two strangers and leave just like that," Sam commented.

"I know. I just don't think either one of us is ready for the answer to that question."

"I don't think either one of us is _capable_ or, well, _trained_ in that area of help," Sam said.

He was right, too.

Give me a djinn, genie, or a ghoul and I can handle them all in the same day.

Hand me a battered woman?

May as well hand me a baby.

I had no idea how to help a woman who'd obviously gone through what she just had. Sammy was more sensitive to these things, he'd be able to help her far better than I ever could.

Amber jerked awake all of a sudden, her wide unusual eyes blinking furiously to clear the last seconds of slumber from them.

"I'm safe."

Her words were whispered more to herself than anything else and they made me wince.

"You're safe," I replied.

Her gaze shot to mine, and it didn't waver.

She watched me like a hawk until I looked back up at her.

From here I could see her chest expanding with her quick breaths, I could practically feel the air vibrate with her quick pulse.

She was still terrified.

"Hey, it's okay. We're getting ready to stop for the night. Are you hungry?," Sam asked.

Amber finally looked away from me and turned to Sam.

"I don't have any money."

He frowned before he smiled at her, obviously trying to ease her mind.

"Don't worry about it. We've been driving all day and we're starving. We had planned on stopping anyways, right?"

Sam's question was directed at me so I nodded.

"Okay," Amber said as she dipped her head once.

Her long blonde hair was tinged pink with her blood as she tucked it behind her ear. She had one green eye and one blue eye. The blue one was ringed with deep black bruising, almost swollen shut.

"Why don't we stop and grab a motel room first? That way Amber can shower, change her clothes. There's a place right off the interstate we can stop at, remember Sam? It's got the Wal-Mart right next to that twenty-four hour diner. We can grab her a few things while we wait for our food," I suggested.

He looked surprised by my suggestion but he nodded and Amber shook her head.

"I don't want to inconvenience you."

"If you were, I wouldn't offer." I said this with a smile, and she seemed to relax slightly before she nodded again.

"Okay. Thank you."

As Dean turned off of the interstate and ambled towards an old motel with a sign that read 'two _roms_ available,' I sucked in a deep breath and finally accepted the fact that I was _gone._

I'd done the impossible; I'd gotten away, I'd _survived_ that motherfucker and everything he'd done to me.

The truth was a heady thing, a heartbreaking thing, and it made me want to sit down with my head buried in my knees while I cried.

Sam seemed to sense my unease, because he patted my shoulder like an older brother would.

"I'll go grab us a room," Dean said quietly as he slid out of the Impala with an ease I envied.

I saw the gun on his hip glint in the moonlight and I stiffened.

With a glance at Sam I could see he too held one; and that wasn't _weird_ for Texas. In fact I would have been surprised if they hadn't been carrying weapons, but it still startled me to be so close to one...two guns.

"Are you alright?"

"You have a gun," I blurted out.

Sam smiled.

"Don't worry. We won't pull them out unless we warn you first, okay?"

"That's a real sweet offer, but they don't scare me. I was just surprised."

He nodded as Dean opened the car door and gestured towards the shady line of rooms behind him.

"Got us the last room. Come on."

He closed his door and made his way over to mine, opening it and holding it ajar as I struggled to stand.

I hadn't said a word about the injuries _beneath_ my bloody denim, and I was in a lot of pain as I struggled to stand straight.

Dean's gaze fell to my jeans, now soaked through with dried blood around the crotch, and I closed my eyes in mortification.

Yet he didn't say a word, no, his green eyes simply watched me a banked heat that threatened to be volatile.

"Thank you," I whispered when I was finally out of the seat and walking away.

The car door closed behind me, and then there was a hand on the small of my back helping me stay upright.

I didn't tell him, but it meant the world to me that he hadn't said a word.

It meant everything that he let me keep my pain inside, to myself, instead of asking me a million questions I didn't _ever_ want to answer.

That strong grip held me until we were inside the motel room that smelled of mildew and dust. It was quaint, with a small kitchenette and two queen sized beds. The door to the bathroom was ajar and I rushed for it, slamming it closed in an effort to gain some privacy, some quiet.

If either man wanted inside they could kick the door in no problem, but they hadn't harmed me yet and they could have many a time. I had a gut feeling they wouldn't ever harm me, and I was a pretty good judge of that.

I could hear them shuffling outside of the door and I started the shower, inhaling the clean scent of bleach as the steam rose in the air around me.

The hot water was scalding when I painstakingly peeled my clothes off and looked at my body in the long mirror above the sink.

I was black and blue across the most sensitive parts of myself; my breasts were angry and red. The blood between my legs was broken up by deep scratches that angled over my thighs like bloody angel wings.

 _This is me._

 _This is my life._

I wanted to crawl out of my skin as the memories threatened to surface, but I didn't say a word. Tears of shame blurred my vision as I took a step backwards and turned to see the damage done to my back.

Thin, jagged, _hateful_ marks lined my back. Criss-crossing this way and that, it looked like someone had done a tic-tac-toe board across my spine.

I winced as one of the wounds began to weep red.

With a disgusted sigh at the sight of my hideous body, I climbed into the shower and hissed at the sting of the water.

My palms flattened against the tiled wall as the events of the past twenty-four hours came to light in my head. I began to shake so hard my teeth chattered.

I clenched my eyes closed, tried to ignore the pain, but it came crashing through me like a tidal wave. My mouth fell open as a guttural sound slipped from my throat, some heart-wrenching sound that I tried to convince myself _wasn't_ from me.

I slammed my palms on the walls, angry with myself, angry with _him_ for what happened. My cries mixed in with the hot water, a loud throbbing sound that echoed around me like a bass drum.

The water was pink as I scrubbed my skin to the point of being raw.

Red rivulets screamed across my body as the water hit my back, creating a sickeningly sweet myriad of color around the drain.

I was hopeless in my grief when I turned off the water.

My eyes burned, my body ached, my heart was broken.

I was still shaking when my feet hit the cold tile, when I wrapped a bright white towel around my skinny frame.

Wiping the steam from the mirror, I hoped deep down the reflection staring back at me would be different, but it wasn't.

It wouldn't ever be.

I wrenched the door open, expecting to be alone, but I was surprised when I saw Dean sitting on the bed farthest from me, his hands in his lap.

His head was back against the headboard, and his legs were crossed at the ankle.

His head turned towards me then, his green eyes falling on me.

I bit my bottom lip, mortified at the thought of him hearing my break down, at the thought of him hearing me _cry._

"What are you still doing here?," I heard myself whisper.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, ambled towards me. I tried not to notice how soft his mouth looked or how broad his shoulders were.

 _He won't hurt me._

Dean lifted my chin at an angle, looked at the bruises marring my neck.

"Sam went to get food and clothes for you. He'll be back soon. I won't hurt you."

 _I won't hurt you._

He said it so easily, so honestly, like he wouldn't ever _want_ to hurt me.

"Do you have a last name?"

"Do you?"

I swallowed audibly.

My throat was still sore from the night before, but I didn't want to think about _why_.

"Amber Bennett."

Dean quirked a small smile.

"Dean Winchester."

I smiled back at him.

"Fancy name," I commented.

He choked out a laugh, his gaze perusing my face.

"We aren't fancy men. You'll figure that out," he said.

I nodded, looking into his eyes even though I was still embarrassed.

"Do you feel better?"

His question surprised me only a little as I shook my head no.

"I understand."

He sounded sincere and if he was, I genuinely hoped that he didn't understand _exactly_ what I'd gone through because I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"I really hope you don't," I said.

He grimaced and glanced down where the towel ended at the tops of my thighs. He knew what had happened and I hadn't been able to hide it.

I _hated_ that he knew.

The water dripping down my legs was the slightest shade of pink and that fact had me covering my face with my hands.

"Sit down, let me take a look at your back."

I flinched when his hands met my bare skin but he didn't tighten his grip on me. He just waited for me to sit down before his fingers slid across my skin. He hissed when he finally tugged the towel down far enough to get a good look.

"You'll need stitches on a few of these, darlin'."

I shook my head but he insisted.

When I finally agreed, he slid his long sleeved plaid shirt off to reveal a black t-shirt that was far too fitted to be comfortable.

 _For me._

He looked handsome, too handsome, and I bowed my head as he neared me.

His touch was precise, it reeked or practice and skill- he'd obviously done it before. As I watched him pull dental floss through a needle I cringed.

"Not to be blunt, but I don't think this will be the worst thing you've gone through tonight. Relax, Amber. I'll be gentle," Dean said.

His tone held no room for argument and I gathered there wasn't much that Dean tried to be gentle with, and if he was willing to try for me then I was going to let him.

"Okay."

His calloused fingers slid my towel down even farther as he situated me between his spread legs. The denim of his jeans was rough against me, and I wanted to lean into his warmth, but instead I settled for hesitantly placing my hands on his thighs.

Dean slid a bottle of Jack Daniels my way.

"Drink this. It'll numb the pain."

Again, I didn't argue, because for some reason I trusted him.

I opened the bottle and placed it against my mouth, holding my breath as I swallowed a few times.

It burned, but not nearly as bad as the torn skin between my thighs did.

"How old are you?"

His question surprised me.

"Eighteen."

He swore and I thought he was mad at me until he began to thread my skin back together.

"Who did this to you?"

"Just a man," I murmured.

"It's never _just_ a man."

He sounded like he knew that from experience and maybe he did.

"It's a long story. Would you mind if I told it to you at another time?," I asked.

Dean only nodded.

His thighs were warm under my hands, the alcohol was making me feel heavy.

I felt calmer, more relaxed than I had in ages.

"Thank you for letting me come with you," I whispered.

He paused his stitching.

"Don't thank me yet."

I was about to ask why when Sam came through the door with his arms loaded down with bags.

He had a smile on his face.

"How are you doing?," He asked me.

"Better, thanks."

He nodded his head, dropping some of the bags on a bed and the rest in the table next to us.

I could feel his eyes on me, assessing me and my wounds, but he didn't say a word about them.

I appreciated it more than he would ever know.

"I got you two options; there's a burger in one box and a salad in the other," Sam said.

I smiled in thanks.

I couldn't remember the last time I smiled so much.

"Did you bring me-"

"I didn't forget the pie. You're in luck. It was the last slice of cherry."

I could tell Dean was smiling by the way that he paused.

 _I'm tired._

"I'm almost done. Then you can change into something more comfortable and eat some food."

I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a decent meal either and the smells wafting from the styrofoam cartons was absolutely mouthwatering.

"Thank you."

Both men nodded.

Sam motioned towards the bags on the bed.

"I grabbed you a few things. I wasn't sure if your size, but you're tiny, so I guessed a small. I hope they fit and if they don't we'll take them back," He told me kindly.

I felt like Dobby the house elf in that moment; except instead of earning my _freedom,_ I was given something much more precious.

I was given security, safety, I was given _hope._


	2. Chapter 2

Hello!

Just a fair warning: I have decided not to filter my writing this time around. This chapter does have some graphic references!

(I do not own supernatural but I kind of wish I did) enjoy!

 _(_ Dean)

Amber was a mystery.

She'd been traveling with us for a week, and every day, we learned only a _little_ bit more about her.

She was as quiet as a church mouse most of the time, and any other time I spent with her usually included Sam.

Once we'd actually gotten back to feel bunker Amber had done her best to understand what Sam and I did.

We did the best we could to explain to her how hunting worked; we sat for hours telling her what we had been through, showing her proof.

Amber was an exceptional student. She took all new information in stride, studied it vigorously until she understood every detail about every creature.

Recently she'd taken up Latin and even Sam was impressed with her progress.

"How is she doing today?," Sam asked as he joined me in the library.

I sucked in a breath, shrugged.

"Far as I can tell, she's fine. She handed me two different case ideas with detailed notes in the margins for me to look at."

I smiled when Sam laughed, nodding my head along with him.

"But she hasn't mentioned her life before now, huh? I asked her where she came from before this and she clammed up on me. I can't get anything out of her," Sam said worriedly.

I opened my mouth to speak, but suddenly Cas was standing before us. His stern expression didn't change as he seemed to almost _sniff_ the air.

"What can we do for ya?," I asked.

Sam sat back in his chair, crossing his long legs at the ankle. Castiel tilted his head to the side, as if he were a dog listening very closely.

"Who is the woman weeping down the hall?"

For some reason that question stilled me; I knew Amber wasn't happy, that she was working through a lot, but to hear that Cas could hear her _weeping_ when neither me nor Sam could hear a damn thing...

"I'll be back."

Sam and Castiel looked at me silently as I left the room, quickly covering the distance between the library and Amber's room.

As I neared her door I could just barely make out the sound of her crying.

The ache it brought to my chest was both surprising and painful.

I broke a cardinal rule and slowly opened her door without knocking, surprised at the sight of her.

She was just barely sitting on the edge of her bed, clad in nothing but her bra and a pair of soft shorts.

Her long golden hair hung limply around her face as she cried into her palms.

I could see her skin was pale from where I stood, making the bruising marring her body painfully obvious.

"Amber?"

Her head snapped up as I stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me.

"What are you doing?," She asked as she hurriedly tried to cover her gorgeous body with a blanket.

"I heard you crying and I wanted to check on you. Are you okay?"

Her lower lip quivered as her chin dipped and then she shook her head.

She had her hands covering her face in an instant and I knew that something was very wrong.

"I can't tell you. It's too...embarrassing,"

She said.

I shook my head and stepped closer to her, noting the way her thighs were tightly clenched together and the way her spine was stiff.

"You can tell me, Amber. What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Her gorgeous eyes opened and she sucked in a deep breath.

"I can't- I'm in a lot of pain, and it won't go away," She murmured. Her hands clenched the blankets so hard I was afraid she would hurt her fingers. Kneeling in front of her, I gently took her hands into mine.

"In a lot of pain where?"

Her green and blue eyes were still wide, still pained. She was pale, slightly sweaty.

She dipped her chin once before she clenched those special peepers of hers closed and shook her head.

"Sweetheart, if you're hurt then we need to make sure you're okay."

Amber hissed and moved my hands off of her lap, gesturing to the small vee of her thighs.

" _There._ Inside. It hurts inside of me," She cried helplessly.

The blush that covered her cheeks was beautiful if not disheartening.

"Okay. Do you want us to take you to a docto-"

"NO! Please, no. No...doctors. I don't want them spreading me open and prodding me," She said crudely.

And then my head was filled with the image of her legs spread for me, her tight little body arching into mine-

"Okay. But we need to check you out, make sure you're okay. What do you want me to do?"

I had the notion that maybe Cas could heal her, but she stiffened in my arms and cut off that thought abruptly.

"Will...will you look?," She whispered through clenched teeth.

I frowned, shaking my head, but she tightened her hold on my hands.

" _Please._ I know this is fuckin' awkward for both of us, Dean, but I _need_ to know. I've tried looking myself, but I'm in so much pain I can't concentrate," Her husky voice said desperately.

I sucked in a deep breath.

I could look between her sweet thighs, I could do that for her. I could push aside the strange attraction I had to her and do this.

 _I can do this!_

Her big doe eyes were watching me, and she dropped her head and shook it slowly.

"Forget it, I shouldn't have asked you."

"I'll look, but are you sure? I don't want you uncomfortable."

She and I both knew why I was hesitant; after all, her traumatix experience (which she refused to speak about) was the exact reason why she was in pain. I knew that she didn't want any man touching her there, and she wouldn't for a _long_ time.

But I was still a man, and she was perfect.

Her blonde hair fell forward, covering her face, and I tucked it back behind her ear.

"Lay down, relax. I'll look."

She sighed with what looked like relief as her tense shoulders relaxed and she scooted back on the bed gently. Her hair was splayed out over her pillow and I thought she had to be the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

 _Girl._

 _She's a girl!_

 _She's too young for a man like me._

Her legs shook as she locked her knees together.

I ran a hand along her calf, wincing when she stiffened again.

"It's okay. I'll go slow. I'll tell you what I'm doin' as we go, okay?"

She nodded, and I slowly pushed her legs apart at the knees, noting the fresh blood I could see spotting the under side of the shorts she was wearing. The creamy white material was bright against her skin, and with a soft touch, I eased them down her thighs.

She was shaking slightly, alerting me to the fact that she was genuinely terrified.

"How you doin'?"

"I'm okay."

Her voice was barely a whisper, but the husky sound hit me straight in the gut anyways.

I'd tried, _tried_ not to watch her, not to study her, but she was so different. Something about her was so sweet, so pure, all I could _do_ was watch her.

Yet, I knew she was terrified of all men right now, and I understood.

I pulled her bloody shorts from her shapely legs and tossed them to the ground.

Her multi-colored eyes were trained on me, and I could see from where I kneeled that she was clutching the sheets tightly.

"I'm gonna pull down your underwear now, okay?"

She blinked and I could see tears in her eyes.

I was _furious_ that anyone would hurt Amber.

She was the sweetest little thing Sammy or myself had ever come across, and it wasn't just the way she looked either.

She was courteous, shy, down to her bones _good._

As I pulled her underwear down I could feel the slight tug of resistance from the sticky blood fused with the silky material.

She cried out when they finally gave away, sliding across her smooth skin easily.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am."

"I know, Dean."

 _Lord._

The way she said my name would have left me speechless no matter the occasion, but right here in this moment, all it did was remind me of what I _shouldn't_ want.

I dropped her underwear onto the bed, noting the fresh blood caked on the purple material. Under normal circumstances her panties would make me absolutely crazy, but right now, they made me feel nothing but anger and sorrow.

"I'm going to have to spread your legs a little wider, so I can see, okay?"

She sucked in a nervous breath and nodded.

"Amber we don't have to do this. We can see a doctor, or hell, even _Sam_ would probably be a better choi-"

"No! Please, I trust you. I don't want anyone to make a big deal out of this, okay? It's why I haven't said anything."

I nodded, understanding, but uncomfortable just the same.

I wanted to help her, but I didn't want to _scare her._

I only nodded as she watched me spread her thighs just a little at a time.

She was absolutely...

 _Perfect._

 _She's fucking mouthwatering._

 _I'm an awful person for thinking such a thing._

My heart was ready to beat out of my chest at just the sight of her, and I tried to remind myself that she was watching me; I had to keep my expression neutral.

"Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna touch you now, okay?"

She nodded her head.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, I spread her soft skin open so I could get a better look.

I bit back the retort at the sight of her torn and bloody skin, angry and red.

She needed medical attention, or she could get an infection. She may even have one already, but there was something else. Something that had me pausing and my eyes widening. She was watching me so closely, I wasn't sure what to do.

Leaning forward I tenderly removed what looked like a...sliver of wood.

That could only mean one thing, and of course, it had me clenching my jaw in anger so hard I was sure she could hear my teeth grinding.

"Put your pants on me for me, sweetheart. I have an idea. I'll be right back," I choked out as I stood to my feet. She sat up quickly, her wide eyes following me.

"Dean? What's the matter?"

I shook my head, unsure of how to respond with her hearing my anger.

I wasn't angry at her.

I was _furious_ at whoever had sodomized an innocent _girl_ and then undoubtedly left her bloody and bleeding all on her own.

"Nothing, sweetheart. I'm going to call Cas in here, ask if he'll heal you. I'll be right back," I said reaching for the door.

She was off the bed in two seconds flat, her head shaking, her eyes wide.

"Don't tell him what you saw."

I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Amber, no one here will judge you. You're safe here."

She dropped her forehead to my chest, the first contact we'd had apart from the impromptu vaginal exam I'd just given her.

It made me feel so very hollow inside.

"I'll let him heal me, but can we keep what you saw between us?"

I tipped her head up, and she bit her bottom lip. It was still healing from whatever had happened to her before she came to us.

"If you tell me who hurt you, I'll keep this between us."  
She opened her mouth to argue, and instead clamped her mouth shut before she nodded.

"Put some pants on, clean ones. Throw the others away."

Amber dipped her head and I left her in her room, taking a moment to step into my room and close the door behind me.

 _Damn it._

 _Motherfucker._

I swiped my hand across my desk sending everything flying to the floor.

My door swung open and Sam strolled in.

"What's the matter?"

I shook my head, already regretting my promise to keep quiet.

"Not a damn thing. I need you to tell Cas that Amber needs him to heal her. I'm goin' out," I snapped.

Sam's brows lifted and I swore, knowing full well it wasn't his fault. he didn't _know_ what I knew- he hadn't seen what I'd just seen.

Giving Amber an exam like that had never, ever crossed my mind; there was one reason alone I touched a woman's pussy and this was the first time _ever_ I wasn't sexual.

The truth behind it literally _made me ache_ and I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do about that.

What does a man do when a girl like Amber literally lands (almost) directly directly in their path? I hadn't hesitated to bring her with us. Truthfully, even in the moments leading up to her climbing into the Impala, all I could think about was how to get her to come with us.

 _That was the easy part._

Now?

Now I was torn between wanting her, liking her, and needing to feel that purity she radiated like body heat.

 _I can't have her._

 _She should never,_ _ **ever**_ _settle for me._

"Dean, what is this about? I haven't seen you this messed up over a woman since...Lisa," Sam commented.

His words only made me angrier because I _know_ that's the truth.

"Tell Cas to get in there. I'll be back later."

Sam sighed and shrugged, holding his arms out.

"Okay, fine. Have it your way. But what about Amber? Why was I crying?"

With a she hake of my head, I yanked my bedroom door open.

"Ask her yourself."


	3. Chapter 3

(Amber)

My bedroom door opened just as I was fastening my pants. I turned to see Castiel, the fierce-eyed angel watching me, concerned.

I cleared my throat, still embarrassed about how Dean had touched me, still reeling from the pain.

His gaze told me he knew without me even speaking what had happened to me, and it made my skin crawl.

I didn't want anyone to know.

"Hello," I said when all other words failed to surface.

My mouth wouldn't work like I needed, but Castiel seemed to understand. He circled me silently, his lethality seeping from his pores. Even standing two feet away I could feel the energy radiating from him like body heat, wrapping me in it's embrace, making me feel safe.

There it was again, that _safety_ I felt.

Ever since I'd gotten here it had been here, clinging to me, making me want things I couldn't even fathom.

"Amber Bennett. Daughter of Joyce and Marcus Bennett."

The gravelly sound of his voice echoed in the room around us like my sadness; thick, tangy, tangible.

Different.

"Yes."

He nodded once, a shallow dip of his head, as he looked anywhere but at me.

"Dean has asked me to heal you. Would you like that?," He asked, as he finally turned to face me.

"Please," I said shakily.

He nodded again.

His dark hair fell into his eyes for a moment before he pressed two fingers to my forehead, surprising me.

I wrapped my fingers around his forearm, anchoring me to him.

His blue eyes lit with blue fire, practically burning me with their grace and beauty.

When it was done he pulled away, at least tried to, and I stumbled forward.

"Sorry," I said yanking my hand from his arm.

He just shook his head, sighing deeply.

"Amber Bennett-"

"Do you think you could call me something else?," I heard myself murmur.

Castiel's eyes narrowed and he canted his head to the side, studied me.

"Call you what?"

"Some of my friends used to call me Bambi," I said softly.

He paused, watching me, before he nodded.

"I shall call you Bambi."

"Thank you for healing me," I whispered as I gestured to the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a shower."

He nodded, eyeing me closely.

"Are you sure you are alright?"

I nodded, plastered a smile on my face.

 _I want to die._

 _I can't take this._

"See you later, Cas."

Castiel's eyes were light as they watched me, searching me, learning me.

 _Don't let him see how weak you are._

 _Don't let him smell your sadness._

With a sigh I straightened my shoulders and walked into the bathroom, towel tucked against my chest.

The door was cold against my back but I didn't really feel anything. I couldn't feel anything besides Asher's hands between my thighs, his heavy body on top of mine.

I knew that I was in the bunker, safe with Sam and Dean, with Castiel.

My head knew that, but for some reason, my _body_ was convinced it was still tucked underneath Asher as he raped me.

With shaking hands I tried to logically rationalize what I was feeling. I'd been locked in Asher's basement like a fucking dog for two weeks, and everything that had happened to me in that time frame was...unspeakable.

Shudders racked my body as I twisted the knob towards _boil your skin right the fuck off_ hot, and undressed.

My body didn't ache anymore, the wounds on the outside of my skin healed and were a pretty pearly white. The tender skin between my thin thighs was bare of any scars or blood, and the constant sting was gone now. I spread them a little, ran my fingers along the seam of my pussy.

It was devoid of any trauma.

Everything Asher had done to me, all the scars, the slivers, the cuts and bruises- they were just _gone._

It should have made feel better, but instead, it only reminded me of how very _alone_ I really was. It made me feel _empty_ and _barren_ and every millimeter of my skin felt dirty.

I stepped into the shower, bit my lip at the heat, and ducked my head under the water.

My palms were flat on the tiled wall above the faucet

As the water fell into my eyes, I closed them, tried not to remember the way Asher had touched me.

 _With bleary eyes I blinked, trying my best to clear the haze from them._

" _Well, looky what we have here- she's awake," Asher said with a smile._

 _I groaned, tried to roll over onto my side (mostly because my back was on fire) and realized my legs and hands were tied to the bed frame. I whimpered when I realized I couldn't escape, and looked into Asher's eyes._

" _What the hell is this?," I spat._

 _He smiled sadistically, slapping a baseball bat against his meaty palm._

" _You're a smart girl, Amber. You tell me?"_

My hands shook as I pressed the heels of palms against my teary eyes.

I tried my best to block out the memories, the humiliation, _the agony_.

With both hands I scrubbed my body clean until I was absolutely positive all traces of Asher were gone. My skin was pink and raw and it hurt all over, but the tingles felt better than the _absolute_ numbness I'd felt in that fucking basement. Tied up like a dog, starving, bleeding, used for nothing other than his amusement.

 _I want to die._

 _My God, I can't do this._

I caught sight of a razor sitting on the edge of the sink through the curtain, my brain instantly forming a solution to all of my problems.

 _Sam and Dean are nice, but they don't need me._

 _They don't know what he made me do, they don't_ _ **know.**_

With my sobs clogging my throat I stepped from the shower, water dripping from body as if it too were crying.

I took hold of that razor, no doubt a tool used to form Sam's perfect scruff, and pressed it to the vibrant, green vein in my right forearm.

It was sharp against my soft skin, the metal glinting in my hand. I watched it as it rested on my skin, wondering how long it would take to bleed out.

 _Doesn't matter._

 _I'm tainted now._

 _No one will want me now._

Crying loudly now, I looked at myself in the mirror.

Long blonde hair, mismatched eyes.

Thin and small, petite, _weak._

Just as the blade made contact, the door slammed open and Dean was standing there, panting.

He took in the sight before him, his eyes narrowing and his his mouth pursing tightly.

He smacked the razor out of my hand and tugged me into his chest.

I screamed, fighting his hold.

"No! You can't take this away from me!"

He didn't answer, just cupped the back of my head while I cried into the crook of his neck.

The skin was rough, covered with five o'clock shadow, but it smelled so good.

So _safe._

I punched against his chest, flattened my palms against him in an effort to get free.

"Let me go! I ain't got-there's nothing left, Dean! Let me _go!"_

He wrapped his other arm around my waist and tugged my body into his.

He was warm and hard where I was cold and soft, my skin still wet from the shower.

Dean didn't seem to care as he whispered into my hair.

"You're gonna be alright, Bambi. You'll be okay," He said adamantly.

I pounded against his chest again, trying to wrench myself out of his grip.

"Let...me...go...," I whispered helplessly as my hands fell limply to my sides, my hands resting on his hips.

He continued to murmur softly, his deep voice comforting in a strange way.

"You're safe here, baby. You're safe."

His words his me in a place I hadn't expected as I felt my traitorous body cuddle into him, soaking up his strength and his warmth.

He smoothed my wet hair away from my face, leaned down so he could see into my eyes with his glowing, wet, green ones.

"Tell me you see me, Amber. Tell me you see _me_ and not _him."_

I nodded fervently, still crying, but less out of touch with the present reality.

"I see you."

"Say my name," He demanded.

His calloused palms were cupping my cheeks like he never wanted to let go.

I grimaced, sucking in a shaky breath as the tears threatened to swallow me whole.

"Say it."

"Dean!"

He nodded slowly, his eyes looking over my body.

"Stand here and don't you dare move. Do you hear me?"

I nodded again.

"Say it."

"Yes, Dean."

He disappeared for a second and I stood there naked, shivering, and empty.

Like an ocean with no water, a vase with no flowers, a sky with no moon.

He came into view holding an oversized Led Zeppelin t-shirt that he yanked over my head without saying a single word.

His expression said it all.

 _Why?_

 _Why?_

 _Why?_

His green eyes were blazing with something I couldn't decipher, something big and obvious.

Once my arms were through their holes he tipped my chin up.

I couldn't stop crying though, not even if I wanted to, so what he was searching for I had no clue-but he then lifted my wrists towards the light, and I understood.

He was looking to see if I was high, if I'd taken any pills, too.

I hadn't.

My wrists were unblemished apart from one tiny nick.

Dean's body almost seemed to sag with relief before he surprised me beyond measure as he lifted me into his arms.

If he wasn't careful I was going to find a home there, I was going to find it to be a safe haven.

"I don't care if you do," He muttered.

I hadn't realized I'd spoken that out loud, about his arms becoming a home, and I blushed against his neck as I held onto him for dear life.

He managed to sit us both down on his bed, me cradled against his chest, his back against the headboard.

We were silent for a long while, with only the sound of my crying and the sound of Dean's breathing keeping us company.

"How did you know?," I finally whispered.

Dean's hand came to rest on my back, his skilled fingers rubbing me through the material of his shirt.

"I know the sound of those cries. I've made them a few times myself."

He didn't say anything more as he tightened his hold on me.

"Castiel said your aura was dark. He said it was quickly fading. Then he called me."

I swore under my breath, hating that Dean of all people had found me like that. I hid my face in the collar of his shirt, avoiding his gaze.

"Don't. Don't hide from me."

"You don't know what it's like, what he _did."_

"Tell me. Keepin' that poison inside of ya won't help you heal," He said reasonably.

"I can't. I don't want you to know."

He adjusted himself so I was facing him head on.

His green eyes looked like to sparkling jewels, shining down on me.

"Why not me?"

He was frowning, he sounded disappointed.

"I don't want you to look at me differently," I admitted.

His frown faded away and he sighed. His thick fingers swept hair away from my face, gentle and sweet. A direct contraction to the man I knew him to be- if he thought I hadn't done my own research on the infamous Winchester brothers he was wrong- and Dean was purported to be a nasty son of a bitch.

"What if I promise not to? Look at you differently, I mean."

I started to shake my head, but he stopped me.

"Please," He whispered.

I got the notion that he didn't use that word often.

"His name was Asher. He worked as a contractor on my boyfriend's house," I started.

Dean nodded, rubbing my back again.

"One day I came home from work, noticed Peter was gone. That wasn't unusual, he often took off during the day to do business. He worked at a computer software company."

"At eighteen?"

I shook my head.

"He's twenty-five. We met while I was working at a coffee shop two years ago. He was always real sweet, never rough with me. When I got home that day I noticed he was gone, but he'd left me a note saying he would be back for dinner. I didn't think twice about it, honestly."

Dean pushed more hair out of my face, keeping my eyes visible to him.

"Asher was there, waiting for me. He made advances. I ignored them. Peter, my boyfriend, wasn't unattractive. He just wasn't...hard? He was soft, like me," I whispered.

Dean nodded.

"I thought Asher had gone home, when I climbed into the shower."

My breaths started to come faster as I relived the memory in my mind.

I heard footsteps on the stairs, thought it was Peter-but it-it- wasn't," I admitted.

"Did he touch you then?," Dean asked me.

I shook my head.

"No, he just kidnapped me then. Took me back to his home, which was beautiful- he'd built it by hand, he'd bragged about it the whole first night," I said with a shiver.

"The _first_ night? There was more than one?"

"There were fourteen," I admitted.

Dean swore and his hold on me tightened painfully, causing me to stiffen.

"Damn, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Keep going."

I paused, swallowing my fear.

 _Dean won't hurt me._

"He did...unspeakable things to me in that time frame. Fourteen days of hell, of pain, of...pure humiliation. I _hated_ myself, hated him. He laughed at me, hurt me...," My voice faded as the tears threatened to fall once more.

Dean sat up then, cradling me closer to him.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just me," He said softly.

 _Just me?_

 _Just him?_

Dean didn't realize how he filled the room with his dominance, how he could have swallowed me up whole like little red fucking riding hood.

"He used-there was a baseball bat and-these _clamps_ -"

I stopped talking, chanced a look at Dean who was staring at a threat coming loose from his shirt. He was frowning, his perfectly sculpted face turned away from me, but I knew he was listening- the set of his frame told me so.

He was tense, so tense I thought he'd hurt himself.

I thought he'd tell me to stop telling him what Asher had used on me.

But he didn't say a word, and I realized that I _needed_ that.

"I told him no, but he wouldn't stop. He used me like I was his plaything, and when he was done, he would laugh at me and leave there alone. Alone with nothing but the memory of what he'd just done to me to remind me that I am _nothing_ ," I admitted.

Dean clenched his eyes closed and I felt myself reaching for him, even though he couldn't see me doing so.

"I wanted to die every time he touched me," I whispered raggedly.

Dean's eyes snapped open and he shook his head.

"You're not gonna let that bastard win, Bambi. Not now, and not ever- do you understand me?," Dean snapped.

"If you hurt yourself, you'll let him win. Your survival will have meant nothing," Dean said harshly.

I shook my head, opened my mouth to tell him that Asher had already won, but he wouldn't let me.

"What happened to Asher? What about your boyfriend?"

I dropped my head, looking away from him.

"Turned out Peter needed money in a bad way, so he sold me to Asher," I said. I laughed bitterly, shrugging my shoulders.

"Stupid me, I didn't even know that could happen in real life," I told him.

His grip on me didn't loosen, no, he gripped me _tighter._

"And Asher?"

"I finally got the courage to fight back, I...ended up with the opportunity to take one of the knives he was using on me. I knew I wasn't the only one he'd hurt. I stabbed him when I got the chance and called the cops," I admitted.

Dean nodded his head, slowly.

"The lights we saw when we got there...they were for you?"

I shook my head.

"I couldn't stand to be in that house anymore, but I also couldn't stand the thought of his blood on my hands _forever._ I wanted him to be held accountable for all the things he did to all those other girls he told me about. His basement was a...it was a _torture_ room," I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand.

Dean's calloused palm was the closest thing I'd gotten to affection in a very long time, and it was glorious as it caressed my wet cheek.

"What about all the things he did to you? Don't you want vengeance for yourself, Bambi?"

My nickname sounded good on his lips, natural.

It sounded genuine.

"What could it do for me? Those girls are dead. They deserve to be remembered for something other than what he did to them. Their souls deserve peace. Their families deserve peace," I said angrily.

Dean's nostrils flared, and then I realized I was still on his lap, wearing nothing other than one of his shirts.

My cheeks flared with a fresh blush.

"I should go," I said suddenly.

I rolled off of Dean's bed easily, my movements much more graceful now that the painful throbbing below my belt line was all gone.

Nothing but scars now.

I'm nothing but a bundle of scar tissue and trust issues now.

 _Who will want me now?_

Dean stood next to me, his hand out towards me.

"Do you want me to walk you back to your room?"

I shook my head.

"You were right. It was foolish of me to think that hurting myself was the answer. I just didn't know what to do about the pain, in here," I muttered as I pressed a hand over my heart.

"Takes a little longer for that to heal, I'm afraid."

Dean sounded so sure, so adamant, like he knew.

Like he'd suffered before, as I did.

"Are you speaking from experience?"

He dropped his chin to his chest, shrugged.

His black t-shirt stretched tightly across his chest and I held my breath.

He was so different than any man I'd ever come across; I wasn't lying when I'd told him that Peter had been soft. He wasn't a 'man's man' but he had been...comfortable.

Dean was not a _comfortable_ man.

He was lethal, and hard, and he was calloused from the many let downs life had given him.

He was a little lost, a lot angry, and just the right amount of _scary._

He was pain and agony and righteousness tucked into one sexy vessel.

Asher had damaged me in ways no one could ever imagine, but Dean was soft with _me._

He didn't raise his voice to me, and he didn't hurt me. He treated me like an equal, like a _woman_ and that counted for more than he could ever imagine, honestly.

Dean Winchester was a friend to me when I really needed one.

"My parents abandoned me when I was seven."

His gaze snapped to mine, and he canted his head. Much like Castiel had, he frowned.

"I was in the system until I turned sixteen, when I ran away. I lived in a shit hole apartment where the landlord let me pay my rent under the table until I turned eighteen. When Peter asked me to move in with him...I don't know, I thought it would be a fresh start. I thought I'd finally found someone who wouldn't abandon me."

Dean reached for me, and then let his hand drop.

"We would never do that to you," Dean said softly.

I smiled then, my first real smile in days.

"I know. You're a great friend, Dean. I appreciate you more than you know. And just so we're clear- I wouldn't hurt you either," I said as I opened his bedroom door, and headed back towards my own room.


	4. Chapter 4

(Dean)

Amber had somehow burrowed her way under my skin.

She was...different, and mature, and she understood pain better than a lot of people. Now, however, she was in the kitchen with a wooden spoon between her teeth and flour painting her forearms. She was reading a recipe for the 'best fuckin' chocolate cake _ever'_ and she was struggling.

Apparently she wasn't an avid baker, but the fact that Sam had only mentioned that he enjoyed chocolate cake and we'd walked into the kitchen to discover her knee deep in this-project- was so sweet, it made both of us smile.

Amber 'Bambi' Bennett was, quite literally, the best thing to happen to us in a long, long time.

I could see Sam watching her with bewilderment in his eyes as she leaned over the counter and tipped some oil into a measuring cup, swearing under her breath when it splattered her white v-neck.

Suddenly, as if just now sensing our presence, she looked up at us and graced with a briliant smile.

"Hi," She murmured, a blush flushing her cheeks.

"Havin' some trouble, sweetheart?"

She frowned at me, and shook her head.

"No. I'm not very good at the metric system, but I'm figuring it out. I already made the icing- would you like to try it?," She asked shyly.

The question was directed towards Sam, and I nodded at him to do it.

He sent a warm smile to her and nodded as he stepped towards the counter, lifting the chocolate covered spoon to his mouth.

"This is _delicious,"_ He murmured.

She smiled again, pride evident in the lines of her face.

Her dimples appeared and I chuckled.

"I heard you say- that is, I thought I heard you mention that you like chocolate cake," She said softly to Sam.

He gently patted her shoulder.

"I do, thank you."

Her smile stayed in place as she began to mix her ingredients together in a large ceramic bowl.

A sudden thought occurred as I looked over all of the tools she was using.

"Hey, uh, Bambi...where'd ya get all of this stuff?"

Her cheeks flushed again and her eyes widened slightly as she stilled.

She swallowed audibly before she glanced in my direction, a grimace on her face.

"I may have stolen it," She admitted sheepishly.

For some reason that made my dick as hard as a rock.

Hearing her sultry, husky voice, admit to me that she'd stolen _baking utensils_ solely to make us happy made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

It made me feel...happy.

"I know you're probably mad at me, and Castiel already chastised me good, but I just wanted to do something nice for you."

Sam calmed her, patting her again.

"Don't worry about it, we aren't mad. Not at all," He said smiling at her.

His eyes met mine, and I could read the expression in them instantly.

 _I like her, this was a good decision._

I wanted to tell him that I had no other choice, that I _had_ to keep her, that even if she didn't know it she was _mine._

Yet, I didn't- instead, I kicked my shoes up onto a chair across from me and watched her.

She was back to being immersed in her task. Her blonde hair was tied up into a messy bun on top of her head, and the t-shirt she was wearing fitted her a little too well. I could see the swells of her perky tits from where I sat, and while I enjoyed the view, it only made it harder to convince myself I couldn't have her.

Which I _couldn't._

But my whole body screamed for her on a cellular level.

I couldn't explain it, and I'd sat up for hours trying to figure out how to logically separate myself from her.

Her mismatched eyes caught mine over the counter top and my lips twitched.

Her creamy skin looked almost as good as the chocolate icing Sam was still chowing down on, until she turned and smacked his hand.

Surprised, he chuckled under his breath, and dropped the spoon.

"Sorry."

She fake-frowned at him, her lips giving away to a playful smile.

"I forgive you. However, there is a pile of potential cases waiting for you near your laptop," She said easily.

His eyes widened and he nodded.

"Thank you," Sam commented.

She just canted her head like this was the most normal thing in the world, her baking a cake for two weathered hunters that were twice her age.

"Stop staring at me, Dean. I like it here."

 _How did she know?_

"What makes you think I questioned that?"

Her lips twitched this time.

"I pay attention to you."

My eyebrows quirked, and she continued.

"It's hard not to, when you watch me the way you do," She said breathily.

I watched as she checked the stove, making sure the temperature was correct, before she slid the oiled pan inside.

With a dusting of her small palms, she started the task of cleaning up.

"I _watch_ you?"

"Yes. I don't think you realize you're doing it, and that's okay. It's nice. It makes me feel safe."

I had to laugh at that.

"Sweetheart, if you knew half of the things I've done, you wouldn't be so sure about that."

She smiled, more to herself than to me.

"I knew you'd say that, but I hate to burst your bubble- I know everything," She admitted.

My spine stiffened.

"What?"

Her cheeks were a bright pink when she turned to face me, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I interrogated Castiel."

 _Son of a bitch._

"What made you think you had the right?!," I snapped, standing so quickly I knocked the chair I'd been occupying over.

She winced, stepped away from me.

"Those were _my_ secrets, Amber. Mine! If I'd wanted you to know them, I would have frickin' told you!"

She clenched her eyes closed, her head nodding.

"I'm sorry, Dean-"

"Save it!"

Feeling an anger, a _shame_ , I hadn't felt since the mark, I slammed out of the kitchen. Just as I turned the corner to walk into my room, I heard her soft voice call out her second apology, but I ignored her.

 _Those secrets were mine!_

 _The shame was_ _ **mine.**_


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Supernatural :(

(Amber)

Sam came ambling into the kitchen as I was finishing my clean up. His hands were in his pockets, and his hair was tucked back behind his ears.

"You okay?"

"You mean is Dean okay?," I asked.

"No, I mean are _you_ okay?"

I glanced at him, shrugging.

"I don't appreciate a man yelling at me, but I understand why he was mad. I invaded his privacy."

Sam leaned against the counter as he watched me.

"What do you mean?"

I shrugged again, taking a seat across the kitchen.

"Do you have anything to drink?"

He reached for the refrigerator door and I stopped him.

"Alcohol."

He peeked at me over his shoulder, watched me for a moment before he nodded.

I figured he thought I deserved it.

As he handed me the bottle of whiskey and a glass, I motioned towards the chair across from me where Dean's feet had been only a half hour ago.

I poured some whiskey into the glass and offered it to him first.

When Sam shook his head I downed the entire glass in one swallow, wincing at the burn.

"I asked Castiel about the both of you. I just-I wasn't trying to pry, Sam. I really wasn't. But after what happened with Asher...I just wanted to make sure that I would be safe."

"I can understand that...and I can also understand why Dean is upset. I'm sure you can imagine how...hard it's been on him, these last few years," Sam said softly as he leaned closer to me.

I cringed, nodding my head as I drank from my glass again.

"I understand exactly how he feels, which is why I feel so terribly. I should have just asked Dean, just like he came to me to ask me about my past. I shouldn't have dug around inside of his past without his consent," I said.

Sam only dipped his head once before he slid a hand across the table and pressed it over mine.

"He'll be okay. Just let him cool off," Sam said.

"Enough about me, I'm okay. What about those cases I gave you?"

He smiled a shit-eating grin and pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket.

"What do you say to going on your first hunt?"

(Amber)

 _Fuck._

I didn't fancy myself out of shape, but I'll be damned if my lungs weren't burning, if my calves weren't on fire.

Sammy was somewhere to my right and Dean?

Dean-o was nowhere to be found, something both Sammy and myself found disturbing.

Mostly because Dean had thrown such a fit over the fact that I was joining them this time on the hunt that Sam and him ended up in a screaming match.

I felt Sam's warm hand wrap around my arm, anchoring me as we hid beneath a dirty canopy inside of an old slaughterhouse not far from where they'd found me.

"You okay?"

"There's a crazy witch hunting me, Sammy. I'd be better if our asses weren't _literally_ on the line," I said nodding towards the barrier we'd created in an effort to hide ourselves.

He quirked an adorable smile before he shrugged.

"I wish I knew where Dean was, he's always better at the small talk."

I almost snorted out a laugh, fully understanding that Sammy was delusional, and tightened my hold on him.

"Wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine. And you ain't doin' too bad," I said with a small smile

Just for him.

He blushed, something I found very endearing, and we both jumped when we heard a sudden crash just outside the exit to our left.

"Isn't that the sweetest? You two seem to be quite...cozy," Sam and I heard.

The shelter over our heads crashed to the ground as a larger woman with crazy green eyes and crystalline earrings separated us with nary but a flick of her wrist.

I cried out as my back slammed into the metal wall behind me, knocking the wind out of me and practically cracking my teeth in half.

Sam flew across the room towards the other side of the room, his head falling forward as he was obviously knocked unconscious.

"Sam! _Sammy!,"_ I screamed, struggling to stand.

A drop of blood fell into my eyes and blinded me for a second, but two hands around my throat brought me right back to reality.

"What a pretty little creature you are," The witch murmured as she brought me closer to her.

"Such delicate features, like a rose and all of it's petals," She was smiling now, a sadistic smile that had me shivering in my boots.

" _Fuck you,"_ I croaked out.

She smiled wider, but before she could reply, the door behind her burst open.

"Get your hands off of her!," Dean demanded.

I'd never been so happy to see him.

 _Dean._

 _He's here._

 _He'll save me._

"Dean, run!," I managed to choke out.

Even if he was my knight in worn out denim, he didn't have to waste his time trying to save me.

"Get Sam!," I cried, waving in his direction.

Dean hesitated, looking between Sam and I before he seemed to decide I was in more need of his assistance.

"My pretty little flower, what shall we do with you? You killed my beloved Caroline," The witch said in reference to her...lover.

"I did, and I'd do it again."

She narrowed her eyes at me but I just lifted my jaw and clenched my teeth.

"You've been through quite a lot in the last month, haven't you? I can practically feel the trauma on your skin...," She murmured to herself. She glanced at Dean, who still had his gun raised in the air, and a smirk rose on her red, red, lips.

"This was just too easy."

I shook my head, but she started to chant and the room got really small.

The world seemed to spin all too fast, and all I could hear was Willow the witch chanting and Dean screaming in the distance.

And then, just as soon as it started, it stopped.

"There, my sweet girl. That should do it."

I fell to the ground, suddenly exhausted, and rolled onto my side.

Dean raised his gun towards Willow the ever-lovin'- bitch-of-a-witch, but she was gone.

"Damn it, Amber! How do you feel? You feel okay?," He asked me as he pulled me up into his arms.

"Dean, I'm fine! I just feel- I'm tired. That's all."

He didn't seem to believe me as he helped me to my feet but I didn't let that bother me as I tried to stand on my own.

My whole body felt like it had been sucked dry.

I felt scratchy and hollow and warm, like a fever was coming on.

"Sammy? You okay?"

I turned to see Sammy standing, rubbing the back of his head.

"What'd I miss?"

Dean slanted me a glare, his perfect mouth pursing with irritation.

"Little Bambi got herself cursed, and the mouthy witch got away. We gotta track her down before Amber get's hurt," He said softly.

I could tell he was angry with me and I didn't really _blame_ him-

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you back to the motel, your head is gonna need stitches."

I winced when Dean's calloused fingers swept across my tender forehead, his green eyes angry and volatile as they landed on me.

Sam placed a hand on the small of my back and they both led me to the impala, their gazes meeting over my head and making me nervous as they communicated in that silent way that only they knew how.

"Guys, I'm _fine."_

Dean nodded, pressing a surprising kiss to the crown of my head.

"I know, sweetheart. We'll figure this out."

(Amber)

Sam had long since showered, the scent of his body wash surrounding me as I sat in a creaky wooden chair. Dean was grabbing me ice for my forehead, and me? Well, I sipped from the bottle of whiskey that Sammy had thoughtfully pulled from his bag and handed to me twenty minutes prior.

None of us had mentioned the 'curse' lingering over my head, or if Sam and Dean had spoken about it, they hadn't mentioned it to me.

I wasn't paying any attention to them either, and honestly, if they left me alone for the rest of the evening I would be fine.

That itchy, warm, slightly-off-kilter feeling was still bubbling in my gut like indigestion.

"I got ya some ice, baby."

At the moment his endearment bounced right off of me, but it didn't go unnoticed by Sam. I saw his gaze shoot to Dean. He watched him silently, diligently, _fully._

My hands were starting to shake, and I wasn't sure if it was from this 'curse,' or from the shock of being thrown like a ragdoll across a warehouse.

Dean's green eyes were zeroed in on me like I was the prize, but I thought him and I both knew I wasn't.

I thought we were on the same page.

His hands shook slightly too as he reached for my bloody forehead. In one hand he had a needle threaded through with dental floss, and he had the other cupping my cheek as he assessed the damage.

"How bad is it, cowboy?"

He glanced down at me as he sighed.

"Not too bad, a few inches across. I bet you'll have a hell of a headache tomorrow," He remarked as he poked at the wound.

I growled under my breath from the pain and he drew back to look at me.

"I'm not tryin' to hurt you," He said softly.

The whiskey was making my brain soft, and dewy, and gooey.

Dean looked as handsome as ever, with his hair standing on end and his dark denim dirty and torn at the knee.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some food. Amber, what do you want to eat?," Sam asked me as he kneeled next to me to put his shoes on.

"Maybe just some soup?," I murmured.

He leaned forward, grabbed me by my chin to steady me.

I couldn't keep eye contact and he swore.

"I think she may have a concussion, Dean. Keep an eye on her. I'll be back."

Dean only nodded as he pulled a chair close to me, _too_ close, and spread my legs wide.

I stiffened instantly, pulling away from him as fast as I could.

 _Breathe, Amber._

 _He won't fucking hurt you._

"Calm down, baby. I just want to get as close as I can so I don't hurt you," Dean reasoned with me.

He sounded logical, and I knew I was being illogical, so I pulled him down to sit in his chair again.

This time the pet name settled on my skin like warm honey, sinking in, sticking like glue.

He settled into the chair anxiously, his large hands fanning out to pull me closer to him.

And then I felt it.

It started out like cramps, almost like my period was coming- truthfully, I didn't really think anything of it. I was in pain, the whiskey was making me weird, and Dean was busy stitching me closed like an old pro.

He was close, no closer than we'd been before now, but my body started to react in a way that absolutely horrified me.

His facial scruff rubbed against my temple as he peered at my skin, as closely as he could get without literally sitting on me, and I knew it was because I was so short and he wanted to be sure he was doing a good job.

But for some reason my body computed his actions as _sexual_ and I couldn't...stop myself.

I just wanted to inhale his sexy, musky scent; leather, earth, gunpowder. A scent that was entirely _Dean_ , so heady and male it made me groan internally.

He was wearing this sexy ass burgundy shirt that draped open provocatively, showing off the tight black shirt underneath that spread across his broad chest like a second skin.

I inhaled deeply, tilting my head up ever so slightly so I could sniff the underside of his chin.

 _Want._

 _I want him._

See, my mind knew that this reaction wasn't rational- Dean and I were friends, close friends, but he was still new to me and he hadn't ever made an untowards move against me.

I wasn't ready for anything with anyone, romantic or sexual, hell _no._

I could barely handle myself let alone another human.

Yet, as he neared me with that needle, all I could think about was getting my hands on that tantalizing expanse of skin that was now bared to me as his shirt rode up over his hip.

With shaking hands, I brushed the pads of my fingers across that patch of skin.

He jerked, swearing as the dental floss tugged.

"Damn, don't do that! I don't want to mess up your stitches," He said under his breath.

I only bit my lip, tugging on the ends of that damn shirt.

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself," I muttered.

He looked at me like I was crazy for about two seconds before he resumed what he was doing.

This time he sat before me with his muscular thighs spread and all I could do was groan.

"Sorry, baby. I'm goin' as fast as I can."

That time that damn nickname settled in my gut like a pile of rocks, making those cramps leech out into my bones. Steady, hot, achy, warmth seeped into my bloodstream and began to travel _south._

A sweat broke out across my brow as I realized I was more _aroused_ than I had ever been in my entire life.

Because of _Dean._

 _This can_ _ **not**_ _be happening!_

 _Oh, lord, but he's so sexy..._

With a sound somewhere between a squeal and a groan, I found myself grasping his thigh, right near the apex of his crotch. He startled so hard that the thread he was cutting loose fell to the ground next to us.

"Jesus! Amber, what the hell-"

"Don't. Say. A. Word," I whispered heatedly as I tried with all of my might to _not_ touch him, but I couldn't _stop._

My hand slid up his thigh and underneath his shirt, and all the while his green eyes stayed on me like I was something he'd never seen before.

"Amber, what is going on?"

I keened, rolling my hips as a rush of pure, unadulterated, _need_ coursed through me.

"I think that witch-bitch made me go into heat!," I admitted with a blush so furious, my cheeks burned.

His eyes widened and he pulled away from me instantly, leaving me to touch myself.

Up, up, and up my hands went until I was cupping my own breasts. They were heavy and achy and it felt _so_ good when my thumbs brushed over my own nipple-

"Amber, _stop!"_

I cried out, shaking my head.

I met his gaze over the top of the table that now stood between us. He shook his head, _hard,_ and I groaned at how sexy the action was.

"Come on, Dean, just _touch_ me," I whispered.

His eyes widened even more and he swore.

"Hell no!"

I frowned at that, wondering just why the hell _not._

"You don't find me attractive? Fine, then let me touch _you,"_ I argued.

I moved to stand, groaning when the tightness of my jeans pressed against my throbbing clit.

"Oh God," I muttered, pressing my hand against my own pussy.

Dean choked on a breath.

"This has _got_ to be payback for somethin' I've done," He said as he moved towards me.

"Here, let's get you into a cold shower. See if that helps."

I could only nod, because in reality, I didn't want to seduce Dean like he wasn't an important person in my life. He was my friend and I didn't want that to change. I didn't want to take advantage of him, ever.

"I'm sorry, I swear, I don't know what the fuck is going-"

Dean's hand landed on my skin, right above my ass, underneath the flimsy tank I was wearing.

The second our skin connected, it felt like electricity sparked between us.

He stiffened and I used that opportunity to turn in his arms and wrap my arms around his neck.

He dropped his hands to my hips out of instinct and I groaned.

"Damn, that feels good," I breathed.

He frowned, trying to pull away, his face so close to mine I could count those delicious freckles if I wanted to.

"Amber, this ain't right! I'm too old for a woman like you- you don't really want this-"

"Just one little taste...," I whispered as I brought his mouth to mine.

 _My God, he tastes so fucking good._

Like mint, and coffee, and that damn earthy taste that was all Dean.

His taste exploded into my mouth as our lips slanted together like two pieces of a puzzle, opening instantly.

I pressed my breasts against his chest, loving the friction it gave my sensitive nipples.

Dean tried to shake it off, tried to tell me he didn't want it, but then he suddenly stopped pushing at me, and yanked my body into his so hard I thought he'd hurt himself.

Pressing those calloused hands beneath my thighs and lifting me against him, he slammed me into the wall behind me.

It hurt but that didn't matter, because Dean was touching me and it felt better than anything else I'd ever felt.

"God, you feel so good," I moaned into his mouth.

His calloused hands were skilled, obviously used to a woman's body, and for some reason that made me _furious._

 _Who cares, touch him, touch him._

"You taste so damn sweet," He whispered as he pulled away to suck at the tender skin of my neck.

I buried my fingers in his hair, tugging harshly, enjoying the sounds he was making as he ripped my tank top down and sucked one hard nipple into his warm, wet, mouth.

" _Fuck_!"

I felt my belly tighten, that coil drawing deep inside of me.

"You gonna come before I can even touch ya?," Dean asked arrogantly as he slipped one hand down the front of my jeans.

"Touch me, _please_ ," I whispered frantically.

Dean seemed to get off on the desperation in my voice, seemed to be able to hear how much I fucking _needed him._

His thick fingers found my wet pussy and I arched into his searching hand.

"You're a dirty little girl, aren't you? You like that?," He whispered against my mouth.

" _Yes, yes, yes,"_ I breathed as he sank two fingers into me.

It didn't hurt like it had with Asher, it wasn't boring like it was with Peter- Dean's touch had my whole body on fire.

That coil in my belly got tighter, and tighter, and _tighter..._

"Fuck, are you gonna come on my hand, baby? Are you gonna come around my fingers?"

"Don't...stop...," I mouthed as he finger-fucked me without mercy. His teeth were tugging on my earlobe, my legs were wrapped around his taut waist, his fingers were buried deep inside of me...

" _Dean,"_ I could feel the air leave my lungs, stiffened as the whole world tipped on it's axis and colors flashed behind my eyes.

"That's right, baby. Come all over me," He demanded, his raspy voice only lengthening the orgasm I was riding. The tingles started at my knees and worked their way inwards, stinging us both as I opened to Dean like a fresh flower blossom.

His shirt rode up and over his belly button, and when I looked down, I could see the straining length of his dick against the inside of his leg.

My hazy mind began to clear, and when I realized that Dean was still licking at my neck, I froze.

The magic began to fade...

"Oh my God."

He stopped instantly, his green eyes bleary and lingering at half-mast.

He wrenched his hand from my pants and dropped me to my feet, stepping away from me so fast he blurred.

"Dean-"

"No! Shit, I didn't mean to do that! Tell me I didn't make you do anything you didn't want," Dean begged as he ran a hand through his hair.

I had no idea what to say, or do, so I just cupped his cheeks and kissed him...again.

Not because I was cursed, or because I was still high in the sky floating on a cloud of post coital bliss, but because he needed it.

"You didn't hurt me. You didn't push me to do anything I didn't want. I'm really sorry that this happened to you, but I promise I won't force you to touch me ever again, okay?"

He started to laugh then, and even though I frowned, he continued.

"God, you're so freakin' _sweet._ You got no idea how much I wanted that, do you? You didn't force me to touch you, I had to use all of my self-control _not to fuck you._ "

His words stunned me, and I couldn't deny the fact that I was now ultra-aware of him- what he was feeling, what he was doing, the way his body moved.

"Why?"

He stopped pacing and pierced me with a loaded stare, his eyes saying all of these things he didn't dare use his words to explain.

"Why? Take a look around you, Bambi. You're now livin' in a forest creatures like you don't survive in. Don't you get it yet? You're _good._ There's no question about it, baby. You're down to your skeleton good, and I'm bad. Bad for you, bad in general!"

I scoffed and rammed my fist into his shoulder, surprising him and myself.

"Stop it! I'm not _good._ You think what we did was x-rated, Dean Winchester? You ain't seen _nothin'!_ You didn't see the things I did with Asher!"

"Damn it, that ain't the same! You didn't have a choice!"

"But I _did_ with you, and I chose to touch you anyways! And you know what? _It felt amazing._ "

His green eyes were pained, agony lining the colorful orbs as he shook his head.

"That bitch cursed you. Could have just as easily been Sammy."

With a gasp, I reared back and smacked him.

His head jerked to the side, and I used that opportunity to wrap a hand around his chin and yank his gaze to mine.

"If I wanted Sammy to touch me, he'd be touchin' me. I didn't ask for this curse, I'll be the one to handle it, but don't cheapen what just happened between us. I deserve better than that, Dean Winchester."

His green eyes told me he knew I was right, and with a sigh, I released him and stalked towards the bathroom.

"I'm going to shower, and when I return, I expect that whiskey to still be there."

Dean didn't respond, but I heard the bottle slam back down onto the table as the bathroom door closed behind me.


	6. Chapter 6

(Amber)

 _Fuck!_

 _I just let_ _ **Dean**_ _finger-fuck me like one of his random hook ups._

 _Sure it wasn't 'against my will, but I hadn't thought to seduce Dean._

The magic.

It had to be the damn magic, and it had to be tied to Dean, because when Sam touched me before he left for food ealier, I hadn't felt a damn thing.

No, I _craved_ Dean.

My body was aware of him in a way that ashamed me because I still wasn't healed from all the things Asher did to me.

 _Dean would never hurt me._

It didn't seem to matter what the situation was, that little voice in the back of my mind was always repeating that- Dean would never hurt me.

And he'd just proven that- I practically threw myself at him (okay, I did throw myself at him) and he blamed himself first.

Even though Dean's touch had sated me, had fulfilled me in ways I hadn't known I needed, I could feel that fever returning full force as the hot water washed over me tired body.

I leaned my head back against the tiled wall and spread my legs wider so I could reach my greedy little clit.

Dean's face came to mind as I touched myself, whispering his name into the steam as it rose into the air.

"Dean, Dean, _Dean."_

I rubbed my knuckles of over my swollen skin roughly, already wild with need.

I could feel my body tightening in anticipation, I could feel the fever reaching it's peak, but I couldn't _come._

Damn it.

I tried for another orgasm until Sam almost knocked the door down in an effort to feed me.

I slammed the faucet off as I climbed out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy white towel around me.

 _I hate this._

 _I hate it, and I hate that I'm hurting Dean._

 _He's so good to me._

Tears of frustration bit at the backs of my eyes, but I ignored them and plastered a tremulous smile on my face.

The reflection in the mirror before me disgusted me.

The texture of the towel felt sinful against my heated skin, and I took a moment to try it calm myself.

 _You're fine, Amber._

 _You'll get through this._

 _If you just resist, it will be worth it in the end!_

The bathroom door opened and I caught Dean's gaze as he shoveled a hamburger into his mouth.

"Are you alright? You look a little flushed," Sam said as he pressed a palm to my forehead.

I winced at his touch, gently removing his hand.

"Ah, sorry, I forgot about the stitches. You're a little warm, do you feel okay?"

I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, which is that I _did_ in fact felt sick, but that I was sure the only cure for said sickness was his brother's dick...

I didn't think that would go over very well.

"I'm fine, Sammy."

He smiled at me and held out a styrofoam cup.

"Got you some potato soup, extra cheddar."

I returned his smile, genuinely grateful.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it."

Dean's green eyes could have melted my skin right off my brittle bones when I turned towards the table.

His burger sat uneaten now on its foil wrapper and his hands were clenched hard over the table top.

Sammy chattered on behind me about ways to remove the curse and how to figure out what the curse _was_...

All I could think about was the way Dean was watching me and how amazing it would feel if his hands were touching me again, bringing me to climax all over again-

"Amber!"

I jumped.

Averting my gaze I opened the soup.

"Yes, Sam?"

He cleared his throat.

"You were panting."

I rolled my eyes into the back of my head and wished more than anything that I had my own room.

"I'll be right back," I said as I threw my clothes on.

"Whoa, hold on now, where do you think you're going?"

Dean's voice surprised me, but I ignored his question as I shrugged into an oversized t-shirt and leggings.

"I'll be _back."_

He didn't open his mouth again, and I'll admit, I was still sore about the things he'd said to me- as if I was some floozy who would _ever_ cause strife between him and his brother- so I ignored him entirely as I slammed my feet onto the ground and left the room quickly.

The fresh air was unforgivable as it floated across my skin, making me sting, making me wince. I wanted so badly to apologize to Dean for what I'd done, I hated the tears that surfaced as I moved away from the motel room door.

I tugged on the ends of my hair and took a deep breath, but the tears came anyways.

 _I let him touch me._

 _I let him make me come._

The last memory I had of either was a terrible montage of unspeakable acts done to me by a man who only had one goal in mind: to ruin me.

What kind of a woman was I?

I was stronger than any case, than any witch, I was stronger than _Asher._

I didn't want to self-destruct.

I didn't want to _fail_ again.

I'd let myself down when I allowed Asher to destroy my insides.

 _Get your own room. Start there._

That little voice was never wrong, so I made my way to the front desk and arranged for my own room.

It was two doors down from Sam and Dean, smelled like mold, but I stared at the bed like it was my _lifeline._

I can survive this strange curse.

I can fucking do anything.

My body was literally _burning_ by the time I stumbled into Sam and Dean's room. I tried to hold my breath, tried to still the frantic rise and fall of my chest, but I knew it was going to be a _long_ night.

I refused to ask Dean to touch me again, and even though I was still reeling from his tiny confession- that he wanted to _fuck_ me- I knew that neither of us could handle that right now.

We were _both_ lost, and that scared me more than anything else.

"Amber?"

I turned to Sam, forced a smile, and motioned towards my small duffel.

"I got my own room. Lady problems," I said with a gesture towards my stomach.

As I averted my eyes, I wrapped my hand around the duffel at my feet and yanked it upwards, cringing when it made contact with my throbbing chest.

"Bambi? You good?"

Dean's voice sent chills down my spine, _good_ chills, the kind that made my knees weak.

His Perfect face came into view and I clenched my eyes closed, turning towards the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Promise."

 _My insides are literally melting._

For a moment his fingers brushed my arm, and in that second or two, my whole body calmed.

Okay, so clue one about this curse: touching Dean makes it better.

Clue two: it also makes me insanely horny.

I stifled the urge to cry when he pulled away and I trudged towards the door.

"See you two dudes in the morning," I said awkwardly.

I even saluted, which made me decidedly uncomfortable.

It hurt to close the door and head to my own room where I salted and locked the door behind me.

After a cursory walk through of the small room, I tried valiantly to eat my soup.

My body wouldn't allow it.

I tried to drink some water, I tried a _cold_ shower, I tried watching TV.

Nothing made that consistent, pulsing, ache inside of me go away.

 _Not a damn thing._

I finally slid my pants off, tucking the edges of my t-shirt around me, and laid back on the bed.

My knees spread of their own volition and I grimaced at how wet I was even though I'd done literally everything I could to stop it.

That's when the tears started.

Hot, wet, crocodile tears fell from my eyes as I hugged a pillow close. The pain was enough to make a woman crazy but the idea of Dean being angry with me (as he should be) was the cherry on my sundae.

Time to make a plan.

I could have sex with a stranger, but I had a feeling that witchy-bitch made this curse a little more complicated. That satisfied way she'd eyed Dean while she chanted in her own language made me quiver with fear.

What if the curse inadvertently hurt him?

What if it _directly_ hurt him?

How the hell could we get rid of it?

 _Am I going to die?_

I rolled over, trying to ease my mind, but the look on his face when he brought me to orgasm was on a constant loop.

He hadn't _looked_ angry with me, not at all.

He looked satisfied, hungry, _happy._

He'd had that hazy, half-lidded, utterly aroused look on his face.

The image brought to life that awful, hungry, feeling beneath my skin and I clutched a pillow to my chest to try and focus on _anything_ else beside that feeling.

I didn't want Dean to touch me because he had no other choice, I wanted it to be the only choice he wanted to make.

 _Wait, what?_

 _No I don't!_

A terrible realization settled in the pit of my stomach, and I lurched towards the duffel at the end of my bed. Rushing for my small computer, I hurriedly tapped into the wifi and pulled up the internet browser.

With unsteady fingers I began my research, using only the small liquor bottles in the mini-fridge to quell that unruly hunger I couldn't seem to quench.

A steady sweat began to bead on my forehead, but I ignored it.

The more I read, the more I started to panic.

 _Really_ panic.

Not only did it look like that bitch had put a love spell on the _both_ of us, there were some terrible side effects!

Since the curse was directed towards me, Dean was just a bystander for the most part.

All he had to do was...feed this hunger I had for him.

Nothing would happen to him, not now and not in the long run.

However, my end was looking bleak.

If Dean didn't feed this hunger between my thighs, then I would suffer.

And not just suffer, but eventually, it would _kill_ me.

What kind of love spell _killed_ its host?!

Obviously the _worst_ kind.

It didn't look like there was a loophole either. No matter what i did or who I fucked, if Dean didn't reciprocate, then I was doomed. It wasn't a traditional love spell either, no- it was personalized to the witch, which meant she'd done this to me on purpose.

 _She knew what had happened to me._

 _She knew what Asher had done, so she pushed me in the most painful way possible,_

I vaguely remembered her mentioning what had happened to me before I came to Sam and Dean, and it all made sense now.

She obviously thought that I was too fucked up in the head to let him touch me, so that magic she cursed me with was _strong._

Obviously stronger than either of us had imagined since it was less than an hour later that he had me panting and moaning his name like some damn porno.

 _He likes porn, so that's not even funny right now._

God, I wasn't the kind of woman Dean Winchester liked.

In fact, I was so far _out_ of that realm, that I pretty much figured there was no way he'd ever be attracted to me, so our relationship had grown comfortable.

Familiar.

Safe, easy, enjoyable.

That was all shot to hell now, and it was all my fault.

I should have listened to him when he told me it was too soon for me to come with them, but I hadn't wanted to be left out.

 _I'm an idiot._

Suddenly, before I could even suck in a gasp of air, cramps in my stomach tightened so painfully, I found myself heaving on the motel room floor. I caved in on myself, clutching my at my abdomen, trying my best to breathe in through my nose.

 _In, out, in, out..._

 _Pause._

 _In, out, in, out..._

 _Pause._

Slowly, slower than I ever thought possible, the pain lessened enough for me to clamber to my feet. I was sweating profusely now, that arousal I was feeling borderline agony, now.

"Jesus," I murmured as I fell back onto my bed.

Somehow, in the midst of everything, I managed to fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

(Dean)

"You wanna tell me why Amber just tucked tail and ran out of here like her ass was on fire?," Sam asked me as he laid out on his own bed.

I looked over at my bed, far too empty to be comfortable.

"You heard her, she's havin' lady problems."

Sam's eyebrows rose in that annoying way they do.

"You sure _you_ aren't one of those problems?"

I scoffed and kicked off my shoes, looking up at him as I did so.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I noticed you've taken to calling her... _baby,"_ Sam commented.

I swore and shook my head, rising to my feet.

"Slip of the tongue, get to the point Sam. What are you tryin' to say here?"

He sighed.

"I think you like Amber, more than you've liked anyone in a very long time," Sam said softly.

"She's a freakin' kid, Sammy!"

"I think after what she went through with Asher and Peter, she deserves to be considered a woman. Don't you? Besides, age has never bothered you before," Sam said pointedly.

I shook my head again and placed my hands on my hips.

"You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"I mean, I get it. She's sweet and young and pure. She has her whole life ahead of her, she isn't jaded like the both of us. She's a breath of fresh air, and she's as easy to read as a baby book. Every expression on her face is open to the public. She's different," Sam said.

"Sounds like you like her, not me," I argued.

 _He can't fuckin' have her._

He smiled knowingly at me, and it grated on my last nerve.

"I like her for _you."_

I didn't know what to say to that, so I stayed silent.

"I did a little research while I was out earlier," Sam huffed.

"And?"

"Sounds like Amber got hit with a real nasty love spell. Side effects don't sound very pleasant. In fact, if what I read was right, then Amber could die if things go awry for her," Sam said worriedly.

His hair was tucked back behind his ears as he spoke and I could see the anxiety on his face from here.

"What do you mean, Sam?"

"I don't know if she's got any symptoms surfacing yet, but I called Rowena. Asked her a few questions, and she said she knows Willow. Said she's heard of the spell before, and that she probably cursed her to...I guess, _need_ , one person. It's like a mating bond for werewolves, or a sire bond for vampires. The connection is deep, immovable, and tied to her life force. If she denies the bond for long enough, she'll die," Sam said.

"What _bond?_ What does this bond mean?," I asked angrily.

"Well, I'm assuming she didn't tie her to a random stranger. She was far too calculating to do that, and she was _beyond_ angry when Amber killed her woman, Caroline. She had to have tied her to one of us," Sam said matter of factly.

I frowned as the implications of what he was saying sank in.

"How would we know if we were bound to her?," I heard myself ask.

But I already knew the answer.

 _She'd thrown herself at me..._

"She will start show signs of her attachment eventually. Rowena told me it could be a number of things, but that one of the strongest connections she would feel is...sexual," Sam finished.

I remained silent, finally comprehending what the hell was going on here.

Words from Willow's mouth came back to me then, something about the trauma she'd suffered, something about what she'd gone through in the last month...

" _Son of a bitch."_

Sam sat upright tossing his phone onto the bed beside him.

"It's already started, hasn't it?"

I avoided his gaze as I swore a blue streak under my breath.

"What does she need? Did Rowena tell you how to break it?"

"She told me the only way to reverse the spell is to kill Willow. As long as she's alive, her magic stays the same. As far as what Amber needs, well she just said she'd need her mate. I guess that means she needs _you."_

I shook my head.

"No. No freakin' way!"

Sam rolled off the side of the bed, gesturing towards the walls that separated Amber from us.

"Dean, this is bigger than you! I know you've got mixed feelings about her, and whatever the hell you think you _deserve_ , but if you're the one Willow tied to her, then the only way she's gonna survive until we kill Willow, is if you help her!"

He was right, and it infuriated me.

Beyond all doubt, I wanted every inch of Amber beneath me, moaning the way she had earlier. Saying my name, wrapping those small hands around me, tasting me...

"She deserves better than that, Sammy."

"Dean, we don't even know what the spell entails yet. She could just need to be near you for all we know," Sam argued.

I didn't tell him the truth, no I didn't have the heart to tell him that he was wrong.

"So what now?"

"I would say you should start by sharing this information with her. Go get her, tell her she can't be alone right now."

Sam sounded so _sure._

But he didn't stop to ask me how I felt about this- how I would feel when it was over.

Because sharing this connection with her meant that falling in love with her was inevitable- and not because of the magic.

Because I was already halfway there, and now I would have no _choice_ but to fall head first down a hole I never wanted to step into again.

After Lisa, I had no intention of ever falling in love again.

"This is bullshit, Sammy."

His expression softened and he nodded his head.

"I know, Dean. I know."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but I couldn't stand to hear another sentence from him, so I motioned towards the door.

"I'll go break the news."

He just nodded again and I slipped out into the crisp night air, leaning against the door as I took a deep breath.

"Son of a bitch," I whispered again.

Even though she hadn't been gone too long, I already felt an emptiness I hadn't felt before.

It wasn't a feeling I was unfamiliar with, but it was far more pronounced than it had ever been, and I was willing to bet it was the magic.

Like a damn moth to a flame I traveled the short distance to her room, knocking a few times.

When she didn't reply after the third round of knocking, I got to work unlocking her door. With the blunt end of an old credit card I managed to to burst through the door no problem, a grunt falling from my lips.

The first thing I noticed: it was _cold._

She had the windows open and the air on, which was confusing because it was chilly as hell outside.

"Amber? Bambi?"

I stepped further into the room, flicking on a lamp to my right. The room was filled with a dim, glowing light, but I could see her.

Closing the door behind me, I stepped inside to get a better look.

She didn't look good, that was for sure.

She was sleeping in the fetal position, and her white t-shirt was drenched through with sweat.

I could see the erratic rise and fall of her chest from where I stood, those perfect tits of hers on display. Her nipples were visible through the wet shirt, and they were hard little buds.

"Damn it."

I stepped closer to her when she hissed a breath between her teeth. She rolled on to her back and spread her thighs wide, and I could see she wasn't wearing panties.

Her body was perfect; every inch was literally perfect.

Like she was made for _me._

I wasn't arrogant enough to think that, because a salty bastard like me didn't deserve someone good like her, but the thought made me warm.

I could hear her breathing hitch as she started to cry in her sleep.

The sight was heart wrenching, so I sat down on the edge of her bed and laid a hand on her thigh.

I could practically smell her need, so heady and potent.

Like sweet vanilla and cinnamon, spicy and sweet, just like her.

"Baby, wake up."

The second my hand made contact with her skin she bolted upright and gasped for air.

Her blonde hair hung in waves around her shoulders and her mismatched eyes were unfocused.

"Baby? Are you okay?"

She turned at the sound of my voice and her bottom lip quivered as she sucked in a breath.

"Dean? What are you doing here?"  
I watched as she yanked her t-shirt down and rolled away from me. The second her heat was gone, I felt a sudden ache inside of me.

"I came to check on you. Sam got some information on your curse-"

"I found it. I know what curse it is, and I'm workin' on a plan," She spat.

I frowned, standing up to face her.

She was so damn tiny, petite, that she didn't even reach my shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"You think you can just waltz in here after what you said to me, and I'll just be _okay-"_

Her breath caught, and she shook her head, pierced me with a glare.

I shook my head, reached for her.

"Look, I didn't mean what I said earlier. I know you wouldn't do what we did with just anyone, okay?"

"Then why did you say that? I thought you were my _friend-"_

"I am! Damn it, don't you understand what this curse means?," I asked.

She stilled.

"Yes, but I want you to know I won't hold you to your end. It's not fair, and I know you don't want it. I'm working on a plan."

She was shaking where she stood, her chin set at such a defiant angle I almost laughed.

"Amber, this isn't a joke. You could _die,"_ I argued.

"I'm not your type," She blurted.

The fact that she even thought that hurt like a punch to the gut.

"What gave you that idea?"

"You told Sammy I was just a kid, Dean. You don't see me as a woman, and I _need_ that. I need something else right now."

I dipped my head.

"I wouldn't have touched you the way I did if I thought that, Amber."

"Then why did you say that?"

"Because I didn't want Sam to know how badly I want you! Don't you understand? We don't make sense, you and I, do not make sense!," I said.

She frowned, and I ran a hand through my hair.

"That hurts my feelings," She admitted softly.

And I'll be damned if it didn't hurt mine too.

"You're young, you're gorgeous, you're _perfect_. You deserve better than some old ass hunter like me, Amber. I ain't good for you," I told her calmly.

She frowned, her pretty eyebrows pulling together fiercely.

"Dean, who told you that?"

"Nobody had to tell me that, baby. It's the truth."

She stepped towards me, and I could see the sweat beading her forehead in the moonlight.

"Why are you sweating? It's freezing in here."

"Turns out the side effects of this damn curse aren't so pleasant," She whispered.

I frowned.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

"The same reason you didn't come to me sooner, I suppose. Dean, I know this complicates literally everything between us, but I didn't mean to have you forced into some weird relationship with me. You've been so kind to me, and I don't want to take advantage of you," She admitted.

She had to be nuts if she thought the idea of her being tied to me in _any_ way was a burden.

"You're in pain, aren't you?"

She rubbed a hand against her abdomen absentmindedly, almost as if she didn't realize she was doing it.

"No."

I felt that ache inside of me falter, and I knew she was lying.

"I think you're a good man," Amber said.

"You think wrong."

She smiled, shook head head, as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

Even with no makeup on she was flawless, in a way not many women were.

"When you touch me, everything feels safe. It feels steady and...worth it, for the first time in my life."

Her words were too sweet for someone like me.

"That's the magic, Amber. It's going to make us need each other in a way we didn't before."

"Before the curse, Dean. I felt that way before the curse. I couldn't explain it, not to myself, and Castiel didn't have any answers. I knew it from the moment I asked you to take me with you back in Texas," She said.

Her voice, so husky and so deep, sounded pained.

"I'm not a relationship kind of guy. I never have been. I don't want to lead you on."

"You don't want to lead me on, or you don't want to lead _yourself_ on?," Amber asked me pointedly.

Her hands were shaking.

Her knees were bent together.

Her toes were curled into the carpet.

"Amber, what do you need from me?"

" _Everything,"_ She said on a strangled breath.

One word changed everything for me in that second.

It was painfully obvious that she wasn't going to let me believe any of the bull shit I was trying to feed myself.

She wasn't going to give up on me, and I appreciated her effort to let me off the hook more than she knew.

More than she could ever understand, actually.

But that's not what she needed, and for reasons unknown to me, I wanted to give her everything she could ever need.

 _Everything._

In a way Amber reminded me of Charlie, and that sweetness she was made out of wasn't a trait that would keep her alive.

I wanted to protect her in ways I couldn't protect Charlie. And I swore to myself right then and there that I would never find her bloody in some motel bathroom.

"Dean? Why are you staring at me?"

"Women have a habit of dyin' around me. Are you sure you want to risk it?," I heard myself ask.

She winced at my direct question, but she took my hand in hers and chuckled under her breath.

"Well, that's the irony in the situation isn't it? Even if I wanted to say no, I don't have a choice."

Her answer made me nervous somehow, like I needed affirmation from her.

"Do you?"

She glanced at me.

"Do you want to say no?"

 _It matters._

 _I'll never touch her without her permission._

"If you're asking me if I want to risk it, then yes."

I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, sighing when she leaned into my touch.

The tension left her body in a rush, leaving a blissful smile on her lips.

"And what if you find out I'm not worth it?"

She opened those beautiful eyes of hers, and the passion I saw in them surprised me.

"What if _you_ find out that you _are?"_

(Amber)

As long as Dean stayed close to me, I could function.

Function decently, I suppose, because there were times when I was ready to rip my own hair out if it meant I'd find some relief from the pain.

Dean worried about me incessantly, which wore me out, but it was sweet.

Mostly because I didn't let him touch me the way he had the very first night we'd ended up cursed. He offered, albeit reluctantly, and I stubbornly refused.

According to Rowena, who gave it to me straight as soon as I'd gotten the courage to call her, if I didn't let Dean appease my sexual appetite eventually...well, the outcome wouldn't be good.

That Willow bitch had really twisted the spell to fit her own version of torture and she'd succeeded.

The moment my eyes met Sam's the following morning, I knew he was aware of the spell; it was very apparent, however, that he had no idea what it entailed yet.

I wanted to keep it that way.

I tried my best to spend time with Dean under Sam's supervision because I couldn't lose my head. I couldn't hurt Dean, and it was no secret that he was still reeling from our confessions a week ago.

Whenever his eyes moved over my body, they didn't linger for very long; I could tell the bond was a struggle for him as well, but he never complained.

Not to me.

However, three days after our late night discussion...I started to dream.

Let me rephrase that, I didn't just _dream;_ I seemed to be reliving Dean's _memories._

They started off easy enough, with sweet moments from his childhood and adolescence.

He was a sweet kid, a protective older brother, and it was apparent that he truly idolized his father. I was kind of sad I would never meet him or man named Bobby, because of how much he seemed to love both men.

I had yet to tell Dean about the dreams because I didn't want to worry him, especially since no matter what I did I couldn't stop them. I tried to stay awake, I tried to drink myself to sleep, I tried watching movies and eating before I went to bed. Apart from questioning my strange behavior briefly, Dean nor Sam had said a word about it.

Except, now, my mind was moving into dangerous territory.

I'd caught glimpses of hell last night, just enough to singe me.

It scared me so badly, I'd awoken with a start, my hands clenching my chest as if that action alone could stop my pounding heart.

Dean of course pulled me into his arms and demanded I tell him what was wrong so he could fix it.

 _He's good to me._

I couldn't tell him that I'd seen some of what he went through, some of what he'd _done_.

 _I couldn't tell him any of it._

So, I'd swallowed down my fear and let him hold me.

His arms were always steady, always open if I needed them to be; but I couldn't help but feel that it wasn't fair to him. Dean wasn't a man who could be pushed, and I did not want to push him.

Instead, I avoided almost all conversation with him unless it pertained to work or Willow, and suffered in silence.

Sam tried to make me as comfortable as he could, always asking me if I was alright or if I needed something. I would try my best to be friendly, polite, cordial, and I knew that they could both see through my act.

Acting like I wasn't _not_ quite back together yet was hard, harder than I ever thought it would be, but they kept promising me that Willow was almost in our reach.

I didn't have the heart to tell them that I knew they were lying.

"Sweetheart? Ya gotta eat somethin', I brought you a salad."

I looked up to see Dean setting a salad in front of me, his smile downturned in a grimace.

I snaked a hand around his forearm, stopping him.

"What's wrong, and don't lie- I can tell when you're lying."

He inhaled sharply through his nose and glanced around to make sure we were alone.

"Do you remember the problem you had last week?," He murmured.

I turned in my chair, dragging my gaze down the length of him.

He was tense, that was for sure; he was flushed, he was sweating.

"Here, let me hold your hand-"

"That ain't gonna fix my problem today, baby."

His words were sharp and he immediately apologized.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. It ain't your problem, I'll try to fix it."

I frowned, looking around to see if Sammy was near, but he was gone, and Dean was moving out of my hold and headed towards his room.

I followed, ignoring the stupid salad he'd placed in front of me.

His footsteps were loud, his gait determined.

He rounded the corner to his room, and when I tried to stop him again, he swore loudly.

"Damn it, Amber! Give me some space! I don't want to hurt you," He ordered.

I scoffed.

"I've been hurting for a week, Dean."

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?," He asked.

I shrugged, eyeing the way his fists kep clenching and unclenching.

"What was I supposed to say?"

He slid his jacket off and threw it across his desk, turning back to me.

His green eyes were bloodshot and unfocused as he eyed me.

"Jesus, Dean, why didn't you come to me?," I asked as I cupped his cheeks.

He growled, a sound I hadn't ever heard before.

His breathing bottomed out, became erratic, his eyes narrowed in on me like I was a target.

I opened my mouth to ask him if he wanted me to help him out, but he pressed his palms against my shoulders roughly.

I stumbled backwards, surprised more than anything else at the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"Dean?"

His mouth curved viciously.

"You smell mouthwatering."

 _Oh no._

 _Rowena didn't mention this._

I held my hands out in front of me, attempting to ward him off.

He didn't respond, but that scary growl in chest rumbled again and I winced at the sound.

"Dean...?"

His expression was stern, his mouth set in an even line. He didn't blink as he pushed me again, and this time my back met the solid wall behind me.

His smile rose to scary heights as he leaned into me.

" _So delicious,"_ He whispered.

I blinked in confusion, watching with wide eyes as he dipped his face into the crook of my neck.

"Dean...," His name was barely a whisper now, and when he jerked his head back to look at me, his green eyes were practically glowing.

I frowned, trying to read his expression, but it was unreadable.

Suddenly, his hand was between my thighs, pressed against my crotch.

I gasped, wrapping my hands around his shoulders.

"You've never been touched by a _real_ man, baby."

His words sent shivers down my spine- partially because this was a side of Dean I'd never seen, and it scared me; and mostly because he was _right._

The husky baritone of his voice sent my heart and my mind into overdrive. All I could think about was what he meant by that and what the hell was going through his head as he tilted my chin upwards.

"Tell me that you're mine, and I'll give you what you want," He rasped.

"I don't know-"

His hands moved to cup my pussy, his talented fingers brushing over the damp spot in my jeans.

"Let me hear you say it."

I was frozen, my mouth agape, and I tried to mouth the words but my throat was too dry.

Swallowing audibly I looked up into his blazing eyes and whispered, "I'm yours."

He caught my mouth in a searing kiss that had my knees weak and my body trembling against his. Carnal, ravenous, _animalistic._

His kiss was messy, and desperate; all gnashing teeth and tongue, but it seemed to be exactly what we both needed.

His hands didn't stay between my thighs either, no, they traveled north. Up and underneath my shirt until his thumbs were rubbing across my nipples in a way that had me panting.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let me hear you," He whispered as he dipped his head and bit down gently on one throbbing nipple.

" _Dean."_

He grunted in response, wrapping his free hand around my waist until I was pressed up against his face.

He didn't appear bothered because his only reaction was to suck my other tit into his mouth like I was his last meal.

My hands fell into his thick hair, tugging and massaging his scalp as his name fell from my lips like a prayer song.

"I wanna taste that sweet little pussy," He said as he fell to his knees.

I opened my mouth to stop him, but he surprised me when he slid a hand into my panties.

"Damn, Bambi, you're wet."

His words caused me to blush and sigh simultaneously.

"Please- I need...," I didn't know what I needed, so I paused.

"You need me to eat you, baby. Don't worry- I plan on it."

The determination in his eyes was downright satisfying.

He unbuttoned my jeans, slid the zipper down, and yanked until I was stepping out of my jeans like it was my own idea.

He didn't wait for me to lay down, either.

He palmed his bedroom door, _hard_ , until it slammed closed, and then he pinned me against the worn wood and smiled up at me like it was funny.

He looked so handsome I almost told him to stop, but I didn't get the chance.

He had one knee hooked over his shoulder as he pushed my panties to the side and licked me.

My eyes fluttered closed as the agony in my gut disappeared entirely, only to be replaced by that achy, pulsing, need to come.

"Mmm, you taste so _fuckin' good_ ," Dean growled from between my thighs.

He licked at my clit like it was a fresh honeycomb, his expert tongue stroking me until my vision blurred.

"I'm gonna come," I moaned loudly.

I was panting so loud I could barely hear anything in the room, let alone the sexy things Dean was whispering to me.

 _That's right, come for me._

 _My sweet Amber._

 _Mine, mine, mine._

He sank two fingers into my pussy and arched them at just the right angle, causing me to grab a hold of his shoulders and moan helplessly.

I bit my bottom lip to keep it in, but Dean suddenly stopped.

I opened my eyes enough to look at him, and saw that he was staring at me.

"Don't quiet those pretty sounds, baby. I wanna hear you scream," Dean demanded.

Only after I nodded did he continue, and with a vengeance.

His fingers slid in and out of me in time with his tongue as it stroked me, and all at once all of the sound was sucked out of the room as it spinned in a familiar way.

My orgasm crashed through my body like a deadly disease, decimating every cell in it's path.

I felt such relief that my knees buckled, but I didn't fall- Dean was there, lifting me easily into his arms and spreading me out on his bed.

His lips came crashing down onto mine, not skipping a beat.

I opened my thighs for him, eager for him to touch me in any way he wanted.

His cock was hard against the inside of my thigh and I reached for it like a wanton little slut.

 _Him, have to have him._

He hissed when I made contact, slipping my hand down the front of his jeans, wrapping my fist around him.

He was warm and his cock was velvety smooth- he quivered when I ran my thumb over the damp tip.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me come all over those pretty little hands."

His words only made me hotter, so I unzipped his jeans and smiled with satisfaction when his dick sprang free.

It was bigger than I'd expected, but more than appealing, and he leaned into my touch as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth.

Every inch of my skin was tuned into channel _Dean_ as I worked my hand up and down his dick like he wanted me to.

The sounds he made in the back of his throat only spurred me on, just the like the nonsense he whispered into my ear.

 _Fuck, you're good, you're so good._

 _Mine, always mine._

 _Feels good, my Bambi._

I didn't correct him, because I _was_ his- I hadn't realized it until that moment, but I'd been his since he told me to climb into the backseat of Baby and run away with him.

His mouth landed on mine as he breathed into my mouth, his hips thrusting faster against my palm as I tightened my hold on him.

With a sound damn near a roar, he buried his face into my neck as hot spurts of his come painted my palm and stomach.

His kisses gentled as he rode out his own orgasm, his mouth softly moving from my neck back to my mouth.

I loosened my hold on him, rubbing his jizz off on the seam of my jeans.

He exhaled harshly as he rolled onto his back, buttoning his jeans as he did so.

"Damn."

I didn't say a word as I fixed my own jeans.

"Are you okay?"

The question didn't surprise me.

"Yeah, Dean. I'm okay. Are you...feeling better?"

The laugh that escaped his mouth told me he was feeling _much_ better.

"I pushed you. Fuck, Amber, I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to lay my hands on you _at all-"_

I rolled over to face him, taking into account that he, at least, looked thoroughly satisfied.

"That was a little...scary, but I'll chalk it up to the magic and leave it at that. Forget about it, Dean. I rocked your world with a hand-shandy, and I'm not gonna let you ruin my moment."

He barked out a laugh, his green eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Hand-shandy?"

I nodded.

As I moved to stand, Dean sat up, watching me like a puppy.

"Yeeeupp. Hand-shandy. Next best thing to a peener-suck, two pegs short of full-penny."

His brow furrowed, and I leaned down, placing my palms on the mattress.

With a smirk, I dipped my mouth close enough that we were almost kissing again.

"Peener-suck is a blow job. And full-penny? That means full penetration," I whispered.

His eyebrows hiked up to his hairline as he smiled back at me.

"I don't think the word _penetration_ has ever sounded so sexy."

Pulling away I shrugged my shoulders, glancing towards his bedroom door.

"Do you mind if I catch you later? I kind of need a nap," I said.

His face fell and I tried not to read into it.

"Yeah, sure. I'll uh, save your salad for later. You better eat it," He said as he resumed his protective role.

"I promise."


	8. Chapter 8

(Amber)

 _Hot._

 _Hot, hot, HOT!_

 _Demons._

 _Those are demons._

 _Dean..._

 _Dea..._

 _De..._

 _Demon._

 _Dean's in hell._

 _I'm in hell._

 _Who is Alastair?_

 _Why is he making Dean torture those souls?_

 _I watched Dean work methodically, his hands bringing to life the pain his mind contemplated so thoroughly._

 _The screams of agony all around me were so loud, so clear, it was like I was actually there._

 _Hot._

 _Hot._

"Ah!"

I jerked awake, gasping for air, reaching for the bed sheets to steady me.

I was drenched in sweat, my hair sticking to my skin.

It was dark in my room, and the darkness did nothing to ease my fear.

 _I just came back from hell._

 _Dean's hell._

Living Dean's memories wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and in fact, if I had to _choose_ I would definitely choose not to relive them.

"Fuck."  
My voice was loud in the empty room, and I winced when my door creaked open.

"Amber?"

I hated that it was Dean, because after what I just saw, I wasn't sure I could...look him in the eyes.

"What's up?"

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of low slung bare feet made no noise as he stepped towards me, his expression concerned.

He was beautiful.

Scarred and hard and so damn _stubborn_ it made me ache.

He was a warrior; in the literal sense, Dean was a 'man's man'.

He wasn't _soft_ like Peter, he wasn't _sadistic_ like Asher.

No, he was warm and sweet. Sometimes he was rough and sometimes he was awkward but above all else, he tried _so damn hard_ to make me feel safe.

To make me feel secure.

I couldn't ever thank him for that, not really. He wouldn't take anything from me anyways, not even if I wanted him to.

"I'm okay," I whispered.

His head canted to the side as he neared me.

"Are you sure? You were screaming pretty loudly."

I laughed mirthlessly under my breath and nodded, looking away from him.

"I'm sure."

He didn't leave like I thought he would, instead he sat down on the very edge of my bed.

He had his legs splayed, bent at the knees, as I leaned over then with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together.

"There's somethin' goin' on with you. I don't know what, but there is. I wish you would tell me. I know this whole curse business has everyone on edge, but...I don't know, you used to tell me things," He said softly.

His voice was husky from sleep and it warmed my insides like expensive whiskey.

"I know."

He nodded his head.

"I don't want you to hate me."

His words shocked the hell out me, so much so, that I sat up.

"What?"

"I think it's the magic, but I can...feel you out. I know when your mood changes, and I can feel you pulling away from me. I think I know why," He whispered.

He looked at me over his shoulder.

"I've been having dreams," He admitted.

I stiffened instantly.

"You saw?"

The words were heavy, so heavy in the air between us they were tangible.

He didn't say a fucking word either; he sat there, staring at me, his green eyes sparkling.

"You saw what Asher did to me. Say it."

"I saw."

I closed my eyes, suddenly nauseous, ready to vomit.

I hadn't wanted anyone to see those things, _ever_.

I didn't want anyone to know.

I didn't want to _remember._

I moved to stand by the window. My back was facing Dean because I couldn't, not now. Not now that he _knew._

Why?

It wasn't fair. Those were my secrets.

"I would never hurt you like that."

I turned instantly, startled by the fact that he was so close I could count his freckles.

"I know you wouldn't."

He winced, cringed almost.

"I want you to know that I won't ever tell anyone what I saw."

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter if anyone else sees, it matters that _you_ saw!," I cried.

The tears that sprang to my eyes were hot and humiliating and I hated myself.

He wrapped his hands around my waist and I stiffened.

"You saw me, too. I know you were dreaming about me."

I nodded.

"Please, look at me."

I opened my eyes, looking up at him.

"You've seen the things that I've done. A lot of them I can't live with, a lot of them I can. I'm not proud of a lot. But now that you've seen them, and you're going to continue to see them, I can't lie. I hate that you've seen the things I've done, but I'm not ashamed of you. I'm proud of you for surviving the things you went through, Amber."

His words made the tears spill over and I felt terrible for ever thinking that the things that I'd seen, that I would see, could change how Dean made me feel.

"Are you sure? Because if you can't- if you don't want to touch me anymore, I wouldn't blame you-"

His lips landed on mine in a gentle caress.

"Don't. Don't take this away from me. It's all I got."

He sounded so determined, so sure, so... _Dean_ , when he said that.

"I don't know if I can continue to do this," I whispered.

His gaze shot to mine and his mouth dropped open, as he fought to find the words to say. I hated to whisper that truth out loud, hated the hurt expression in his eyes.

"Because of what you saw-I know. I don't blame you. There's a lot of reasons we shouldn't be doing _anything_ that we've done. You're so young, and you have your whole freakin' life ahead of you. I shouldn't have let myself get so caught up… I'm sorry. I understand. Guess it was good while I lasted, huh?"

By the end of his speech, his face had drawn down into a frown so prominent I wasn't even sure he realized it. I could almost see his bottom lip quiver as he plastered on a half-smile that looked nothing but painful.

"You think that I don't want this, because of what I've seen?"

He didn't say anything, but he _did_ try and pull away from me.

I caught one of his big hands in my smaller ones and shook my head.

"Before you came in here, I was still processing what I've seen. It's crazy, ya know? To go from living the life I lived to becoming a hunter. And now this curse has screwed even that up," I said.

"I shoulda dropped you off at a hospital. I never should have dragged you into this life-"

I kissed his palm gently, nuzzling the coarse skin against my cheek.

"Before I met you I was _sure_ I would never let another man touch me again. I was positive that all men were the same and that you would be just like the rest of them. But I was wrong."

His green eyes narrowed and he cupped the cheek his palm was flat against.

"No, you were right."

"I wasn't though, Dean. I wasn't. I don't want this to stop because I can't handle _you-_ I need this to stop because...I think I'm falling in love with you, and I know that is the last thing you want from me," I finally admitted.

His eyes widened and he froze up like an ice cube. Standing stock still I dropped his hand and took a step back.

When he still didn't say a word, I wrapped my arms around my chest and looked out the window, trying to catch my breath. Admitting that to Dean?

 _Stupid._

Why had I done that?

I'd ruined it.

I shouldn't have shared so much of myself with him, he didn't care. He didn't need to hear that stuff. This curse was making all the lines blur, it was changing our dynamic before we were ready.

He was right.

I am very young compared to him, we are very different.

Yet not so different that I couldn't enjoy him, that I couldn't want him.

"The curse is making you think that way. It isn't real," Dean muttered.

I clenched my eyes closed, nodding my head. I turned to face him, sliding the pad of my thumb along his bottom lip.

With a sad shrug, and a quirk of my lips, I let a tear escape.

"I wish that were true, cowboy."

(Amber)

Sam was sweating, his chest bare. I had to admit he was fit as hell, and it was hard for me to take my eyes off of him. A lock of hair fell into his eyes and I itched to move it.

"You okay?"

"More."

He swore under his breath, still fighting to breathe in normally.

"Amber, you've got to be tired. We've been sparring for hours. Let's head home, take a break. Grab some food, rest for a while."

I swore out of pure frustration.

"Sammy, I can't _go_ back there. I fucked up, and I'm trying my best not to literally burst out of my own skin."

His eyes widened in understanding and he laid a hand on my arm.

The pain was instantaneous, a zinging throb that make me wince.

"You haven't let Dean...help you? Come on, Amber! You know better."

 _Of course, I knew better!_

"I fucked up with Dean, okay? I can't- I can't ask him to do that for me anymore. We have to figure out a different solution. I was thinking about calling Rowena-"

"It can't be that bad, Amber."

"I told him I was falling in love with him!," I blurted.

Sam's eyes widened and he silenced.

"Oh-kay, what did he say?"

"That is was the spell talking."

Sam nodded and sat down on a rock, his long legs splayed out before him.

"I gather that's not what you wanted to hear."

I shook my head, my shoulders falling forward as I sat down across from him.

I tried not to let my anxiety get the better of me, but it was useless to try.

"I didn't really mean to tell him, but he kept pushing me. Now he's avoiding me and I can't blame him and I don't know how to proceed. I know he doesn't want me like that, _not really_ , and I don't blame him. He is older than me, more experienced."

Sam cringed at my comment and I frowned.

"What?"

"That's not- look, Dean is complicated. Always has been, always will be. I don't really think age is a huge concern for him; it's more about _you,_ really," Sam said.

I stiffened at his tone and he held his hands up.

"Oh God, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I mean, he's convinced himself that you _couldn't_ want him, that you're too good for him," He explained.

"Horse shit," I snapped as I drank from a water bottle.

Sam grinned.

"That's my girl. I knew you were special. Dean's a lucky man," He murmured.

I smiled wide, tossing him a wink.

"Don't let him know that, or he'll run. I'm trying to forget about what I said, honestly. He wasn't ready for it, and I don't want to make things strained between us anymore than they already are," I said as I stood, stretching my arms above my head.

Sam cleared his throat and I turned back to see him scratching the back of his neck.

"What?"

"I found some articles about Asher. He survived. He's in prison."

I froze at the mention of his name; all the anxiety I'd been struggling to keep at bay came bubbling to the surface all at once.

I needed time to process, I needed time to _heal._

 _No, no no._

 _Don't let him ruin you._

"Did you happen to find out...how many girls there were?"

Sam knew exactly what I meant and he finally nodded.

"He was arrested for brutally raping seven different young girls. He has four counts of murder under his belt now, Amber. He won't ever be able to hurt you again," Sam whispered.

"Just like that, huh?"

He frowned, and I plastered a smile onto my face.

"That's great, Sammy. Thank you for telling me. I think you're right, we should head home," I said.

He looked confused, but I started moving towards the car and sighed into my hand as I rounded the corner.

 _He's gone, forever._

 _He can't ever hurt me again._

 _I'm free._

Yet, even though I was free from the threat of Asher lingering over my head, the reality was I was now tied to Dean in a way that frightened the hell out of me.

Eventually I would be required to give him _all of me,_ and if we didn't hurry, that would happen sooner versus later.

"Amber, take it easy tonight, okay? You're gonna be pretty sore."

I swallowed, nodding my head as I smiled at Sam over the hood of the Impala.

"Yeah, sure. I'll take it easy."


	9. Chapter 9

(Song used is Mercy, by Shawn Mendes)

(Amber)

 _Emotional._

Peter used to tell me I was being emotional when I couldn't find the right way to process information. As if there ever really is a 'right way' to process what Sammy told me. Asher is gone?

Good.

That didn't make my life any _easier_ ; the damage was already done.

Every time a man touched me, looked at me, I would remember him and the way he brutalized me.

I would remember the way Dean's face fell when he'd found slivers of wood stuffed inside of my body like a damn pinata.

I would remember the blood and the gore and that terrifying moment I'd realized that Asher was going to kill me.

I slammed into the bunker like my ass was on fire, but I didn't see anyone around, and Sam was still outside. I figured tonight would be a good night for some alone time, so I grabbed a jacket, tossed a t-shirt over my head, and glanced around to make sure Dean wasn't lurking like he sometimes tended to do.

The coast was clear!

I made quick work of writing a note telling them I'd be back later, and headed for the street. Sam wasn't outside, so I took the long way into town and appreciated the scenery as I went. That tugging ache was starting in my gut, that little internal signal that I was too far away from Dean and that the magic was working to the max. I ignored it of course, fully understanding that I would be drunk soon.

I wouldn't even think about Dean.

The closest bar to the bunker that Dean loved came into view and I sighed with relief as I stepped into the warm atmosphere, pulling out my fake ID. The bartender waved me on as I sat in a corner booth, grateful for the privacy and the reprieve. I could feel the tension leaving my shoulders as a pretty blonde waitress shuffled towards my table.

"Hey, sweetheart. What can I get for ya?"

I smiled at her, leaning back in my seat.

"Can you bring me a bottle?"

Her eyes widened and she tilted her head.

"Can you handle a bottle?"

"You'll get no trouble from me tonight, only a large tip. I'll take tequila if ya got it," I said softly.

She finally smiled shyly, nodding her head.

"I'll be right back, darlin'."

I hung my head and looked towards the window, identifying with the leaves floating on the breeze more than I ever had before. I felt a little weightless, a little lost, like a stray leaf on it's way towards the dirt.

Things with Dean were complicated, things with my new life were complicated. We'd followed up on leads that didn't make any sense, on leads that were dead ends.

Rowena wasn't answering my calls anymore, almost like she knew there was nothing to be done.

I tried praying, too.

Since God hadn't answered me when I was being tortured by Asher I didn't expect an answer, but none of that mattered when, _Laney,_ the blonde's name tag read, set down a bottle of patron in front of me and smiled.

She slid a shot glass towards me and winked.

"Enjoy."

I nodded at her like I would, like I would enjoy the liquid fire burning a hole inside of me.

Like I would enjoy sitting here in this bar, listening to the live karaoke, wallowing in my own misery.

Tonight, I felt different.

The news from Sammy made me feel...irrelevant. Like letting Asher go with what he'd done to me would only hinder my healing process, but that was selfish. I got retribution for all those other girls he hurt.

All the girls he _killed._

 _He tried to kill me._

I threw back a shot as his face flashed into my mind.

Handsome and awful and so damn _cold._

I dropped my eyesight to the table top and shook my head.

As hard as I tried to fight it, thoughts of Dean clouded my already hazy brain and I swore.

I swallowed another shot.

The burn was hellacious, but it made me think of something _other_ than that defeated look in Dean's eyes when I told him I was falling in love with him. I tried to think of anything _other than_ the way his arms held me so tightly when I needed them to, only to release me far too soon from their warmth.

Dean Winchester wasn't an easy man to love.

In fact, he was damn near impossible to understand.

I wanted to, more than anything I wanted to keep him, but I had a feeling he wouldn't be around long enough for that to happen.

Dean Winchester was a runner, and I was already so broken on the inside.

 _Down the hatch we go._

I downed another shot and ran my hands through my hair as I stared at the young woman singing some folksy sounding song with nothing but an acoustic guitar.

 _I used to sing._

 _I used to_ _ **love**_ _to sing._

Peter used to hush me so he could concentrate on work, and it had slowly killed me over time. Why would I speak when no one would listen?"

I downed another shot and rose to my feet, unaware of the eyes that were following me from the back of the bar.

As I neared the girl finishing her song on stage, she smiled at me and waited for the small amount of clapping to stop before she leaned down to hear me.

"Do you think you could help me sing a song? I can't play an instrument."

She nodded happily and helped me climb onto stage with her. I was sure the scent of booze would deter her from singing with me, but she ignored me and eyed me kindly.

"You've got sad eyes."

Her comment threw me off guard and I shrugged.

"I've got a sad heart, baby."

She didn't seem surprised by my honesty, no, she just held my hand as I wrapped my fingers around the microphone stand.

I explained to her the song I wanted, the chords she needed to use- she already knew and apparently _loved_ that song.

So cleared my throat and waited for her to play a couple of riffs before I leaned into the microphone and closed my eyes.

 _ **You've got a hold of me**_

 _ **Don't even know your power**_

 _ **I stand a hundred feet**_

 _ **But I fall when I'm around you**_

 _ **Show me an open door**_

 _ **Then you go and slam it on me**_

 _ **I can't take anymore**_

 _ **I'm saying baby**_

 _ **Please have mercy on me**_

 _ **Take it easy on my heart**_

 _ **Even though you don't mean to hurt me**_

 _ **You keep tearing me apart**_

 _ **Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart**_

 _ **Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart**_

 _ **I'd drive through the night**_

 _ **Just to be near you, baby**_

 _ **Heart old and testified**_

 _ **Tell me that I'm not crazy**_

 _ **I'm not asking for a lot**_

 _ **Just that you're honest with me**_

 _ **My pride is all I got**_

 _ **I'm saying baby**_

 _ **Please have mercy on me**_

 _ **Take it easy on my heart**_

 _ **Even though you don't mean to hurt me**_

 _ **You keep tearing me apart**_

 _ **Would you please have mercy on me**_

 _ **I'm a puppet on your string**_

 _ **And even though you got good intentions**_

 _ **I need you to set me free**_

 _ **Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart**_

 _ **Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart**_

 _ **Consuming all the air inside my lungs**_

 _ **Ripping all the skin from off my bones**_

 _ **I'm prepared to sacrifice my life**_

 _ **I would gladly do it twice**_

 _ **Consuming all the air inside my lungs**_

 _ **Ripping all the skin from off my bones**_

 _ **I'm prepared to sacrifice my life**_

 _ **I would gladly do it twice**_

 _ **Please have mercy on me**_

 _ **Take it easy on my heart**_

 _ **Even though you don't mean to hurt me**_

 _ **You keep tearing me apart**_

 _ **Would you please have mercy on me**_

 _ **I'm a puppet on your string**_

 _ **And even though you got good intentions**_

 _ **I need you to set me free**_

 _ **I'm begging you for mercy, mercy**_

 _ **Begging you, begging you, please, baby**_

 _ **I'm begging you for mercy, mercy**_

 _ **Ooh, I'm begging you, I'm begging you**_

By the time I was into the song, I could see more than one patron standing on their feet, watching me from over the rim of their glasses. A few tipped their glasses towards me as I sang until my lungs ached from the pain.

The woman playing guitar, Sarah she said her name was, smiled at me encouragingly as I sang along to her talented playing. By the time she strummed the final riff I was exhausted, spent, and decidedly less drunk than I should be.

When Sarah stood to hug me, I closed my eyes and relished in the feeling of comfort it gave me.

Who knew strangers could be so kind?

I plopped down from the stage and headed back towards my booth. I sighed with relief when the liquor came into view and I chose to sip from the bottle instead of bothering from a shot glass.

The tequila burned, it burned so damn bad that it brought tears to my eyes, but nothing could hurt nearly as much as what I'd already gone through.

"Are you in much pain?"

My eyes snapped open and I saw Castiel watching me.

"What are you doing here?"

He shifted uncomfortably before he slid into the booth, sitting across from me.

"You are much like Dean. I could hear your prayers."

I scoffed.

"How are old Dean-o and I anything alike?"

"You hide your agony much the same way he does, Amber. He too is imbibing sickening amounts of alcohol to quell that magic burning a hole through the both of you," He said softly.

His blue eyes were practically irridescent in that moment, and I leaned closer to pouring a shot into the small glass. I slid it towards him.

"Join me."

"I cannot taste things the same way that you can."

I shrugged.

"Good. It'll go down easier," I said.

He swallowed the liquor like it wasn't anything special.

"You have a marvelous singing voice. I have not heard the like of it before," Castiel remarked.

"I don't sing very often."

"Dean has hurt you," He said.

I shook my head.

"He can't help it."

Castiel looked down at the empty glass in front of him and held it out to me for more. I filled it to the brim and he swallowed all of the contents in one swift move.

"You are correct. It is who he is, and I feel sympathy for your plight. I believe I have located Willow."

My eyes snapped open and I frowned.

"Ya couldn't lead with that?"

"Sorry."

I waited for him to explain, I waited with the bottle pressed to my lips.

"She has used extensive magic to cloak herself but I believe she is in Texas."

I almost swallowed my tongue, but instead, I nodded.

Inside I was dying at the idea of ever going back there, but Cas seemed to know that.

"You are not alone, Amber."

His words seemed unnatural for him so I watched him very closely.

"Castiel, what are you really doing here?"

He smiled.

"Not very often do I get to assist Dean in a good way. I believe you to be good for him," He admitted.

I had to laugh even though my body felt light as air and heavy all at the same time.

"You're here to _wing man_ Dean? Trust me, cowboy, he don't need it."

"Yet you are here and he is home."

I shrugged.

"It's just the magic that brought us together, Castiel. That's all."

"If that were the truth, which it isn't, then you wouldn't be here avoiding him."

He was correct which made me irritated.

"I just want to drink until that need for him disappears," I whispered.

Castiel's hand fell onto the tabletop and he picked up my free hand with his strong grip.

"May I show you something?," He asked.

I nodded.

He pressed two fingers to my forehead and suddenly the bar disappeared. Through the fog I could clearly see Dean panting, his hands pressed against his sides, sweat beading his forehead.

His face was drawn into a deep grimace and he groaned harshly.

I caught a glimpse of the clock on his desk and it read the very same time my phone did.

The vision was gone in a jiff, and I was back in my tiny booth at the bar. Castiel was frowning right along with me, his blue eyes blazing.

"That's happening now?"

"You may feel nothing the more you drink, but Dean still feels everything."

"You told me he was drinking!"

"His pain is too severe. He cannot stomach the alcohol anymore," Cas said.

I groaned and slammed money onto the table, rushing to stand.

"Wait! I can take us home much quicker," Castiel said as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

The world tilted in a way that made me clutch his trench coat in my hands like it was a life line. He smelled like something I'd never encountered on a peron before; almost like sunlight and a fresh spring morning.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the _teleporting_ , but the need to see Dean before something terrible happened to him was so strong I almost fell over.

The second my feet hit the floor of the bunker, I was off like a rocket towards his room.

Turning the corner, I could see that Sam was obviously asleep- so that meant that Dean was suffering in silence. Which of course pissed me off because that meant that he would obviously rather _die_ then let _me_ help him.

When the door swung open, he was lying there in a pool of his own sweat. He was on his side, with his knees pulled up towards his chest. He had one hand clenching the sheets, and the other wrapped around his middle as of that action alone could keep him stable.

I hurriedly closed the door behind me and peeled off my jacket and shoes, dropping them to the floor as I reached for him.

" _No."_

The tone of his voice literally made me wince.

"Yes."

He tried to ward me off with one hand held out before him but I smacked it out of my way and pressed my hands to his chest.

He sucked in a shaky breath, his shoulders instantly relaxing.

"Son of a bitch," he murmured.

His hands fell to my denim clad hips and he groaned low in his throat.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You were busy," he breathed.

I shook my head in frustration.

"You've been avoiding me. If Cas hadn't come to the bar and had a few shots with me, I would have never known you needed me."

His eyes widened and I ran my hand through his disheveled hair.

"You're stupid."

He frowned.

"I'm stupid? I was giving you the space you needed."

"What?"

"You obviously needed time to sort out whatever you were feeling, so I gave you some space."

I actually _laughed._

"Yeah, finding out Asher was in prison and that Willow is in Texas threw me through a loop. But you've been avoiding me for days, not hours, so stop lying," I snapped.

His rejection of me stung, especially since we'd been so close once.

 _Why does he keep pushing me away?_

His grip on me tightened as he groaned again, but this time it was for an altogether different reason.

His pupils were so wide it made his eyes look almost entirely black. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his chest rose and fell steadily.

He was shirtless, clad in nothing but a tight pair of jeans.

He slid his hands up my shirt, his calloused fingers caressing me gently.

"Can I ask you something?," I whispered.

Dean tore his gaze away from my body and looked up at me.

"What, baby?"

I winced at the use of his petname, and hung my head.

"How come you don't want me?"

His brow furrowed as he frowned, his head tilting to the side.

"Who said I don't want you?"

I shrugged.

"You been pushin' me away, Dean. I may be young, but I ain't stupid."

He shook his head, his lust quickly disappearing. He yanked his hands away from my aching flesh, like I was the last thing in the world he wanted to touch.

"You don't know what you're askin' for, Amber. I won't condemn you to a life with me, okay? I won't!"

His tone was biting as he rolled away from me and sat with his hands buried in his hair.

I got up to leave, but his harsh command stopped me.

"Stay."

I hadn't ever heard him use that tone before, and even though I wanted to tell him _no_ , I sat down.

My eyes drifted closed even though I didn't want them to, and soon, my mind was enveloped by a dream so terrifying I couldn't begin to imagine how to escape.

 _It started with a bunch of images blurred together, nothing that made sense. Loud sounds and memories that almost made me want to wake up, but I couldn't._

 _And then the most frightening thing of all happened; the images came into focus and I could clearly see Dean fighting with someone, his gaze intense and piercing._

 _He was speaking, but the words were muted._

 _He looked so damn handsome, even though he didn't want me, even though I was literally aching for him to love me back._

 _It happened then in slow motion, Dean falling forward as the other man he was fighting stabbed him._

 _I wanted to scream in my dream but I was completely immobile as I watched him slide to the floor, that ruby red blood that I knew ran hot, leaking from between his fingers._

 _It was like I was the damn ghost from Christmas past as I tried to hold him close to me, but he didn't feel me._

 _He couldn't see me._

 _Instead, I saw Sammy holding him close, but the sound was still muted._

 _I could see those green eyes getting heavy and hazy and I was practically slamming against his chest to keep his eyes open._

 _Yet, my cries were silent and exhausting and he couldn't fucking hear me._

 _As his chest rattled with his last breath, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck._

 _I was shaking, shaking_ _ **him**_ _, demanding that Sammy do_ _ **something.**_

"Amber!"

I gasped loudly as the dream faded and instead of holding a dead Dean, I was holding a ball of bedsheets in my arms.

Huffing out a breath I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the panic I felt still lurking in my chest.

"Amber? Are you alright?"

 _No._

" _No,"_ I whispered.

His arms came around me, and I was helpless to stop him. To deny him.

"I can't do this anymore," I whispered.

Dean stiffened and his arms fell away from me completely.

"I know."

Irritated, angry, and exhausted, I pierced him with a glare that I _hoped_ hurt him.

"No, you don't. I get it, Dean- this isn't easy for either one of us. It's not the life you would've chosen and I ain't the woman you would've wanted, but guess what? I don't have a _choice_!"

He winced, his green eyes ducking away from my intense gaze.

"I got a lead tonight and I'm takin' it. You stay here with Sam. I'll be back when I'm back," I spat.

He blocked my exit when he slid in front of his door, shaking his head.

"You ain't leavin' here! Are you crazy?"

I slammed two palms against his bare chest.

"I guess I am. I'm letting you off the hook, Dean. We both know you don't wanna be tied to me, and frankly, I don't want to be tied to someone who can't make up their damn mind," I hissed.

I wasn't necessarily drunk anymore, and while I was pissed, I was still reeling from my dream.

I couldn't let Dean die again.

I couldn't.

He finally moved out of my way and I called for Castiel as I headed towards my room.

When he appeared around the corner, I motioned towards him.

"You found Willow, right?"

He nodded.

"Take me to her."

Castiel opened his mouth to refuse me, but I frowned.

"I'm not going to go alone, if that's what you're worried about- I'm calling Crowley."

Sam came ambling into my room, his long hair hanging in his face.

"Bambi? It's late, what's going on?"

"I'm going to solve this problem once and for all," I said easily.

My bag was packed, my mind was made- Castiel nodded as I motioned for him to get a move on.

"Amber, wait-"

"I've been waiting, Dean. And even though I don't want to, I'm gonna let you go. _I_ won't tie _you_ down."

His green eyes were practically blazing, but I just took Cas's hand.

Both men watched me silently as I pulled out my phone.

"I've got a lead, and I need your help."

(Amber)

Crowley was a funny man.

He had one hand tucked in his pocket while he gazed at me.

"You'd make a fine queen of hell, sweetheart. Are you sure you won't stay a while?"

I shook my head as Rowena mumbled to herself. She was surrounded by objects that I couldn't identify even if I'd wanted to, and whatever she was stirring smelled like ass.

"This bitch is a smart little trollop," Rowena snarled.

I hated that tone of her voice- the one that told me this wasn't going to be easy.

"I've got her location, dearie- I can lock onto her magic from here. But I'll need a trade," She said.

Her gaze landed on me and I knew I wasn't going to like this.

"What kind of a trade?"

"The energy kind. I've got to strip her magic from ya. I need some of your blood for starters," She said.

I held out my arm and she slid a gold-plated blade against my forearm.

I didn't make a sound even though it stung like a bitch, and as she continued to read, I sat down in a chair near her.

She worked silently and diligently as she added more ingredients to her brew.

"Alright, here's where this gets unpleasant. I've got to counter her energy with mine and _yours_ to release you from the spell. I'll be seeping magic from her as I do so, and while this all sounds rather simple-it's not."

I believed her, because then she took my hand and it was like she'd placed a vacuum against my _life force_.

Suddenly I was exhausted and that feeling only grew stronger until I was practically falling out of my chair in an effort to stay awake.

But that itchy, achy, black magic-y feeling that had practically enveloped me was lifting with each murmur from Rowena's mouth.

She'd explained to me this would have been a lot easier had we confronted Willow in person. If we'd killed her the magic wouldn't have been lifted at all- it would have lasted _forever._

Since I had no inclination to go back to Texas just yet, I settled with this alternative.

Basically, Rowena was going to bleed me dry of Willow's magic while she simultaneously _stripped_ Willow of the entire spell.

I wasn't too sure it would work, but now?

Now I felt sweet, sweet relief.

But I also felt extreme exhaustion.

My eyes were fluttering closed when I heard Rowena tell me that the spell had been eviscerated. Crowley's familiar face came into view as he clucked his clever tongue at me.

"Come, little one. Let's get you home," He whispered.

The room spun in a way that had my stomach clenching roughly, making me gasp, but I was so tired I couldn't control my body.

I knew I was back in the bunker because I could smell my room.

I could feel my soft sheets against my skin as Crowley laid me out gently against them.

Just as he was moving away to presumably return to hell, I caught his hand and tugged as hard as I could-enough to _barely_ get his attention.

" _Thank you,"_ I whispered.

He placed a kiss upon my forehead and disappeared entirely.

As my eyes drifted closed, of two things I was certain.

One: the spell that bound me and Dean together was completely gone.

Two: I was still in love with him anyways.


	10. Chapter 10

(Dean)

I was sitting in Amber's room watching over as she slept. She was small in her bed, with her glorious golden hair spilled across her pillow.

She hadn't stirred in a long time, hours even, but I could see the steady rise and fall of her chest from where I sat.

The door to her bedroom opened and I looked up to see Sammy standing in the doorway, his hair falling into his face.

"What?"

He came into the room, holding two beers. He handed one to me before he too sat down in a chair and looked over Amber's sleeping form. He cleared his throat softly before I could even take a swig of my beer.

"You don't have to pretend, ya know," He told me.

I decided to not bother pretending that I had no idea what he was talking about, and instead nodded.

"She's just a kid."

He chuckled, shaking his head, as he swallowed a mouthful of beer.

"You and I both know that's a lie."

I settled my beer on my thigh and watched her as she sucked in a deep breath in her sleep, her perfect little mouth pursing slightly.

"It was the damn curse, Sammy. She don't need someone like me complicatin' her life," I replied.

He rolled his eyes and pierced me with a glare.

"Age hasn't ever been an issue for you before, so what's so different now?"

 _Everything._

"She's too _young,_ Sam! You and me? We're way past our expiration dates, but her? She's got a choice. She can leave this place, this _life_ , and start over! She doesn't need to settle for this," I said, gesturing to our surroundings.

Sam sighed, leaning forward in his chair.

"I see the way you look at her. You're in love with her, regardless of what you want to admit," Sam said quietly.

I glanced at Amber to make sure she was still asleep before I slapped my palm against my thigh.

"And what the hell am I supposed to do about it? She ain't a 'hook up' kind of girl, and I ain't the marryin' kind. This life doesn't exactly follow the guidelines for a 'happily ever after,'" I said harshly.

Sam's frown slowly transformed into a smile and he laughed, shaking his long hair out of his face.

"Man, you've got it bad, huh?"

I shrugged.

"She's a hunter now, too. I bet if you ask her what _she_ wants instead of assuming, you'd be surprised," Sam told me as he stood to leave.

"Crowley called me, told me she'd be out of it for a few days," I said.

Sam nodded.

"Makes sense, I imagine she'd be exhausted after what she went through."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Sam patted me on the shoulder and left me there alone to watch her, wondering if he was right after all.

Was he?

(Amber)

The first time I came to, it took me more than a couple of minutes to get my body moving. As soon as my eyes opened I was met with the critical urge to _pee!_

My body wasn't letting me off the hook there, and surprisingly, I was sore.

My muscles ached like I'd just completed a marathon, but I didn't let that deter me from attempting to roll over onto my side so I could put my feet on the floor.

The room was spinning, and not in a good way- I'd never been a fan of the tilt-a- _hurl_ , and that's exactly what was about to happen.

I hurriedly pressed a hand to my mouth and jumped when two hands helped me to stand.

I met familiar blue eyes and motioned towards the bathroom.

"I'm gonna be sick, Cas, can you get me there pronto?"

My voice came out husky, coarse.

He nodded and practically lifted me into his arms to get me there as fast as he could without rushing the process.

I fell to my knees and violently emptied the contents of my stomach, clutching the (freshly cleaned) toilet like it was my old lover.

I winced when I tried to catch my breath only to be met with another round of vomiting.

I was mid-lurch when I heard a familiar voice in my ear.

"Here, let me help you."

Dean's voice was gruff, but welcomed, as he tugged my hair to my nape and held it there.

I took a moment to catch my breath, astounded by the amount of inky, black vomit lining the toilet bowl.

"You feelin' better?," He asked.

I tried to nod, but I felt that knot forming in my stomach and leaned forward as my stomach emptied yet again.

"You're doin' great, baby," He murmured as he rubbed my back.

I didn't want him to see me like this, but I was so grateful he was helping me I could have _cried._

I could see out of the corner of my eye that he was kneeling beside me, wearing an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt and some threadbare sweatpants.

That alone told me it was the middle of the night.

"I didn't mean to wake you-"

"Stop, don't worry about it. I was just finishing a shower," He said softly as he brushed a lock of hair out of my face.

"I think I'm okay now, could you hand me a glass of water?"

He nodded, his green eyes averted, as he headed towards the vanity above the sink and pulled down a glass.

I waited patiently as he filled it with cold water before he knelt beside me again and held it out for me.

I fell back onto my butt and sipped it slowly, rinsing my mouth before I leaned forward to spit it out.

Dean was sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up around him, his forearms resting on them.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

He only nodded, and I saw that his gaze was soft and worried. The concern was obvious.

I felt the tears rise to the surface then, because that bone-deep connection between us was gone.

It wasn't there, that ache that made me feel like I _needed_ him.

If that connection wasn't there anymore, then that meant that everything that had happened between us may as well have never happened.

Dean wouldn't want me now, even though I was pretty sure I was ass over head for him.

"You okay?"

I shook my head and laid my forehead against the cool toilet lid as I flushed.

Dean reached forward and rubbed my back gently.

"Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something," He offered.

I shook my head.

"No, thank you."

He sighed and brushed my hair out of my face, taking the time to massage my scalp as he did so.

"I'm sorry about what I said," He said.

I glanced up at him.

"Forget about it."

He smiled an irritatingly handsome smile in my direction.

"I wish I could, sweetheart. But despite what you may think, I don't like hurtin' your feelings."

I turned so I was facing him.

"If you help me to my feet, I'll forgive you," I said

He stood first, and I tried not to notice the way the soft cotton he wore stretched across his broad shoulders, or the way those threadbare pants clung to his tapered waist.

He didn't utter a word as he wrapped his hands under my arms and slowly lifted me to my feet.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"How come you let Lisa forget you?," I murmured.

His jaw ticked once, twice- his candy apple eyes were downcast.

"She deserved better."

It clicked inside my head then- the fact that I wasn't special, at least not in this respect. This respect being Dean's belief that he himself wasn't good enough. Not for Lisa, not for me.

I wasn't quite sure how to convince him of that, and honestly I wasn't sure it was even my job.

"Wouldn't do me any good to argue, so I s'pose I'll let it be," I said as I shakily let go of his arms so I could stand on my own.

I turned away from him before he could respond, but that damn vertigo was back and I almost face planted before I heard his weary sigh as he hefted me into his arms like I weighed nothing at all.

"Did you dream about Lisa?"

I nodded against his shoulder.

When I realized he was leaving my room, I opened my mouth to ask where we were going, but he stopped me with a glance.

"I've slept in your room for two nights in a row now, Bambi. My back hurts. Tonight you'll sleep in my room."

 _Excuse me._

I wanted to sass him, I _really_ did, but his room smelled like him. Spicy and earthy and so safe.

"Do you remember the night I told you about Asher?"

As he set me down on the edge of his bed he took a step back as he nodded.

He turned on the TV with a small remote before flicking on the bed side lamp.

"You told me you didn't mind if you were my safe haven," I said with a small smile.

"Not a lot of people who feel safe around me."

But I knew what he really meant-

 _I'm a killer._

 _I'm cursed._

 _Winchester men never win._

"This may come as a shock to you, but even if you're not Cursed to find me irresistibly sexy, I _like_ the fact that you'd do anything to keep me safe. I would return the favor, just so you know," I said as I moved towards the left side of the bed.

It was the only side of the bed that was still made, so I figured it was safe to think he slept on the opposite side.

As he climbed into bed beside me, I was already busy fixing and arranging the pillows around my body so I could find some relief from my aching muscles.

"What do you mean?," His raspy voice asked.

"I mean, Dean, that your past doesn't bother me. Do you honestly think that after I've had a man try and split me in half with a baseball bat that I'd really blink an eye at _anything_ you've done?," I asked.

His face became pinched as he too fluffed his pillows.

"I hate that he did that to you. I wish I could change it."

"Yeah, well, I hate that you spent forty years in hell. Not much we can do about it now," I said drolly.

I felt his calloused hand wrap around my mine. He slowly interlaced our fingers and I sighed in contentment.

"You'd kill someone for me?," he asked jokingly.

I chuckled right along with him as I rolled my head to the side so I could see him better.

I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open.

"I'd do anything for you, idgit."

His eyes seemed to grow misty at the use of his former nickname.

"Where'd ya hear that nickname?," he asked. I could tell he was trying to conceal his sadness, but I just tightened my hold on his hand when he tried to discreetly pull it away.

Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep and sleepy breath.

"Bobby used the term when he visited me in my dreams last night. He told me to tell you that the tape you've been lookin' for is stuck under the passenger seat," I whispered.

Dean's hand tensed in mine, but he didn't pull away.

"Did he...did Bobby say anything else?"

I smiled, nodding my head against the pillow.

"He said _a lot._ But he also told me to tell you one more thing," I breathed.

 _Why is his bed so damn comfortable?_

" _Baby?_ What did he say?"

Dean's voice stopped me from falling asleep completely.

"He told me to tell you that he sent you to Texas. Do you know what that means?," I mumbled.

Dean didn't answer in time for me to hear his reply, but I _did_ feel his arms wrap around me tightly.


	11. Chapter 11

**I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays!**

 **Enjoy.**

 **I do not own Supernatural, but I sure wish I did**

 **XOXO**

(Amber)

The second time I awoke, it was with a scream on my lips.

I couldn't catch my breath no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how many times I blinked, the image of Dean as a demon wouldn't leave my mind. His gorgeous peepers were twisted into a fierce black color, inky and deep.

His mouth was down turned in a perpetual snarl, but his hands?

They were still bloody, in my dream, as they reached for me.

"Hey, hey! Relax," I heard from the doorway.

Sam came rushing towards me, his large hands reaching for me as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

I clenched my eyes closed and tried, for the hundredth time, to ignore the images still burning the back of my brain.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

He shook his head, his fingers pushing hair away from my forehead.

"No, it's lunch time. Are you feeling okay? You're burning up," he said worriedly.

As my head cleared the rest of my body came into focus and I realized he was right.

"I don't feel too well," I whispered as my stomach turned.

"You've been asleep for a while, twelve hours I think. Do you need anything? You should probably-"

His words were interrupted by the harsh sound of me retching, my shoulders tense with the effort. Thick, black, slime fell from my lips as I tried to suck in a breath.

"Bambi! Hold on, let me grab a towel," he said behind me. I heard the quickness of his steps on the tiled floor as I retched again, my back bowing inwards as what felt like my _innards_ came out in one rush.

That sticky black goo coated the floor around me, and the cramps in my stomach were hellacious. Like someone stuck a crank in my belly button and just kept turning, Sam returned to find me on my back, with tears in my eyes.

His gaze was wide and frightened as he pulled out his phone.

"Dean, we've got a problem. You need to come home."

He muttered something else, but it didn't reach my ears as my eyes fluttered closed.

 _Stay awake._

 _Stay awake, damn it!_

Sam's grip was firm as he rolled me onto my side, presumably in case I got sick again.

"Don't worry, Bambi. Dean will be back soon."

I wanted to tell Sam I was fine, that this was a side effect I'd expected, but my tongue felt thick against my teeth and I didn't even have the energy to _cry._

I stunk, there was vomit in my hair and on my hands, and all I wanted was to sleep.

I felt my eyes falling closed, but Sam shook me.

" _Amber!_ Stay awake," Sam said sternly.

I jerked, startled by the sound of his voice.

I had no idea how long I laid there, drifting in and out as Sam tried to clean the vomit out of my hair, to no avail.

When I heard the sound of heavy boots running on the tiled floor I tried my best to smile.

"Ah, baby, what's the matter?"

Dean's voice was thick and sweet as honey, warming me instantly.

His calloused hands pulled me into his arms and he pushed my sticky hair out of my face.

"I called Crowley, and he told me this was somethin' to expect. Her body is purgin' itself of all the dark magic," I heard Dean say.

 _Shuffling._

 _Footsteps._

 _Deep sighs, clicking teeth._

"Call me if ya need me," Sam said softly.

 _Door closing._

"Ah, how are ya doin' darlin'? Ya gonna be sick again?," Dean asked me.

I gently shook my head.

Through my narrowed gaze I could see his nose twitch.

"I need a shower," I whispered.

He quirked a smile.

"Yeah, you do. Do you want me to help you?"

His voice had gone husky all of a sudden, deeper than the Nile. I tried not to let it bother me, not to pay it too much attention.

"Yes."

His green gaze slid over me, slow and sweet.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded.

He had me up in his arms in a matter of moments, his hands under my knees.

I held onto his shoulders as he took me into his Bathroom, turning the knobs in the shower.

"Warm or hot?"

"Scalding," I whispered.

He cranked the knob harder and steam began to fill the small bathroom, bathing both of us in damp heat. It felt good on my aching lungs, and when Dean set me on my feet, I sucked in a shuddering breath. I could smell him all around me, his musky scent.

"I think I need help," I admitted as I struggled to remove my shirt.

His lip curved up at the corner.

"You tryin' to seduce me?"

I choked, scandalized at the thought.

"I'm covered in vomit and haven't showered in who knows how long, I ain't exactly a sex pot."

And I _meant_ it.

I knew then and there that I was back to my old self. That connection we'd had before was completely done for-mostly because my cheeks were hotter than a stove top. I was back to being my shy, introverted self.

His gaze turned serious and he shook his head.

"You're so damn sexy it makes my head spin," he said softly.

My gaze shot to his, and suddenly, the scalding water seemed _cold_ compared to the heat coming from that one stare.

 _Hungry._

 _He looks hungry._

His hands slid beneath the confines of my t-shirt. He worked it up and over my head, only pausing for me to lift my arms.

When I swayed on my feet, he wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me into his firm body.

"Sorry," I muttered.

He slid me out of my shorts like a pro, kneeling slightly so he could take them from around my ankles and drop them on the floor.

His gaze strayed to the skin between my thighs as he worked his way back to his feet.

His nostrils flared, like he was _scenting_ me.

And then he pulled his own shirt off, a white t-shirt topped with an olive green button down that he'd casually left undone. Both articles of clothing landed on top of mine, and I watched, _bewitched,_ as he unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them.

 _Gods, he's perfect._

Yet I was blushing fiercely and I tried my best to look anywhere but that perfect body of his.

"Come on, it ain't nothin' you haven't seen before," He said.

I moved back until I was almost submerged in the hot water behind me.

"That was before."

 _Before you let me go._

 _Before you pushed me away._

 _Before I became the quivering coward I am now._

His green eyes could have burned a hole through me, but he didn't pounce on me like I (almost) half-expected him to do.

No, he moved the curtain back and helped me slide inside, his hand on my lower back. His fingers glided across my skin smoothly, pulling me into his hard chest.

The hot water felt like a balm to my scorched skin, and I moaned in delight.

I smoothed hair out of my face as I stood completely under the hot spray. I scrubbed until I felt the vomit, sweat, _whatever_ disappear. Dean's hands came towards me, and it took me a moment to realize he had shampoo in his palms. He lathered the soap in his hands as he slid them into my hair, massaging my scalp.

I gasped at how good it felt, but he just smiled at me and continued to wash me. My hands came to rest against his chest, warm and hard. His ministrations were gentle and tender, his warm stare never straying from his task.

My hands slid lower.

I hadn't felt his body in what felt like _forever_.

"I missed you," I admitted.

His fingers were now massaging the skin just behind my ears.

"I'm glad you're home."

I felt his lips graze mine in a tantalizing way, just the barest of touches.

I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth and leaned closer to him.

As he rinsed the suds from my hair, I heard him open what was presumably the conditioner, and I hesitated before opening my eyes.

"Are you feeling okay?," I wondered.

"Yeah, I feel fine. Sam said you're feeling feverish, are you?"

"Yeah, but Rowena told me that would happen. Like a magical version of the flu," I said with a cough.

He frowned and worked to rinse the conditioner from my hair.

It felt so good I never wanted it to stop, but he had a wash cloth in his hand, telling me he didn't plan to. I watched, with wide eyes, as he poured a generous amount of body wash into the wash cloth. He rubbed it roughly between his palms and placed it against the back of my neck.

I stood frozen, watching him and waiting.

He started off slow, working the soap into my skin like he had all the time in the world to touch me. He didn't rush, no, instead he was painstakingly thorough.

And then, he stopped.

I peeled my eyes open.

That hungry look was in his eyes again and more than anything I wanted him to kiss me.

His free hand gently nudged my chin until I was looking into his eyes.

He didn't speak and he didn't have to, as that wash cloth circled lower. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his heart beat quick and heady at his pulse point.

His hand traveled lower still, rounding my hips and dipping between them. Still his gaze didn't leave mine, not once, as his talented fingers circled my clit beneath the wash cloth.

I gasped his name, closed my eyes instantly at the pleasure.

I tensed, I couldn't help it- that ease I felt with him, that _need_ , it was gone.

I was back to being frightened, boring, Amber Bennett.

He groaned, his hand leaving my chin and moving to land on my chest. His fingers slid into the valley between my breasts.

" _Dean_ ," I murmured, my eyes fluttering open.

He dropped the washcloth to the wet ground, creating a splash that hit us both.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't mean- Shit," He muttered as he stepped back.

I caught his hand.

"Wait, just-wait."

He did as I asked, his muscular chest rising steadily, his desire for me obvious as he shifted his erect cock away from me.

I stepped towards him, kissing the soft skin right over his heart.

"I know that what we did before was mutual, but right now, I just want you to hold me. I want you to prove to me that you aren't going anywhere, and I need you to understand that I meant it when I said I was falling in love with you," I said softly.

He cocked his head to the side, and I watched mesmerized, as the water cascaded over his perfect features.

"You shouldn't fall for a man like me, Amber."

I choked out a strangled laugh.

"Yeah, I know, Dean. I know it's not what we wanted, not what _you_ planned."

He tilted my head back, brushed his lips over mine gently.

"No. No, I honestly never thought I'd find someone like you," He whispered.

Through the shower steam I could feel his body heat, the rigidity of his muscles as he held me near.

"What is, 'someone like me'?"

He dropped his gaze lower, past my chin.

I watched as he seemed to practically inhale the sight of me, his green eyes steady and lusty.

Dean tucked wet hair behind my ears and cupped my cheeks in those rough, calloused hands of his.

"You're sweet, Amber. Too sweet for someone like me. You have your whole life ahead of you, and I could never ask you to give it to me. You've seen my life in your dreams. There's nothing I could hide from you. You know I've died, multiple times now- this life ain't for you, baby. I don't expect to live long," He said.

I could hear the sadness.

The _pain._

The expectations that he didn't think I could fill.

"It could be all of those things, sure."

He looked up at me when I paused, his frown fierce.

"Or it could be that you're terrified that if you gave me the choice, I wouldn't choose you back. It's easier for you, to take the control away from me- to assume you know what's best for me, and in doing so, avoid getting yourself hurt," I said.

He opened his mouth to argue, but I shook my head.

I withdrew myself from his hold and glanced at the ceiling.

"I can't blame you for pushing me away, Dean. I understand. I'm not your type. I'm damaged. I won't ever beg a man to want me. I just wish you'd see it from _my_ perspective," I admitted sadly.

I heard his heavy intake of breath.

"I won't ever accuse you of bein' stupid," He tried to joke.

"If you and Sam want me to leave, I will. I ain't got anywhere to go, but I'll do it. You have no idea what it's like to have a _man_ tie you down and slowly trip away everything that makes you, you. I wouldn't wish what Asher did to me on my worst enemy, Dean, but there is _one_ thing that's worse."

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me.

I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and flinched when Dean's hand wrapped around my waist.

"Finish this conversation, Amber."

I turned to peer at him over my shoulder.

The emotions I'd been trying so hard to reign in burst free and I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. Stretching to reach him on my tip toes, I pressed my mouth hard against his.

Those soft lips worked quickly to devour me, that familiar taste of his tongue flooded my mouth instantly. His hard body, the gentle way he handled me _always_ , that tortured look in his eyes when I pulled away- it was too much.

The tears spilled over instantly, and I shook my head.

With my hand still wrapped around his nape, I kissed his chin.

Dean's teary gaze didn't leave mine- he didn't stop reaching for me either, almost like he knew he'd ruined it.

Like he knew too, for himself, that our connection was lost.

"I'll never be like the women you're used to, baby. I'll never be Lisa. Asher ruined me, and ironically, it ended up being the best thing to ever happen to me, because then I _met you."_

Opening my eyes, I stepped back and shrugged.

"And I can't even begin to tell you how fuckin' _sad_ it makes me to know that you let me taste you, _love you_ , and you're still willin' to let me walk away," I said on a sob.

"Baby-"

With nary a sound, I closed the bathroom door between us and wept silently all the way back to my room.

Once inside, my bedroom door was closed quietly, and I struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the stupid curse Willow had placed on me- and how, yet again, everything had changed.


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, the lengthy updates are winding down as the story winds down! Only a couple of chapters left :)

Thank you for reading, everyone!

(Dean)

Not many things could distract me from a task I was rabidly chasing anymore; nothing, that is, except for _her._

Amber fucking Bennett had completely wrecked me.

My entire being yearned for her, every single cell of my body practically screamed out for her. She was oblivious as I watched Sam and her discuss the dynamics of spell that we were chasing.

She was so fucking smart.

Her melodic voice rang out around the bunker and I knew that more than anything I wanted to hear _that_ sound until the day I bit the dust.

I would never tire of hearing her speak (surprisingly) amazing Latin, or her laughing, or shit even her _crying_ while she made us watch Romantic comedies. I hated romantic movies but if she wanted to watch one, I always joined her. Inevitably Sam and I would end up on either side of her in one of our rooms (or on the couch) while she cussed at the TV and grabbed our elbows periodically.

Even now she was distracting me and she had no idea.

"Sammy, I think I found something."

I headed towards them, stopping only to glance over her shoulder at mass of written text that to me, looked like gibberish.

"Look, there's a loophole."

I narrowed my eyes, waiting for either her or Sammy to explain it to me.

"Holy...Amber, you're right!"

"Would somebody clue me in?," I barked.

She jumped at the sound of my voice and I instantly regretted losing my cool. Ever since the spell had officially worn off, she'd become her usual self again. Started easily, soft spoken, and all too endearing for her own good. Her husky voice met my ears as she looked up at the both of us.

"If we can get into the strip club in one piece, I can get my hands on the witch. Sammy can you get the ingredients we need?," She asked excitedly.

"Hold on now, remember what happened the last time you screwed around with a witch?," I argued.

"Yeah, you got to see me naked and finger-fuck me until I was screaming your name. Sammy, you get me those ingredients and leave the rest of the plan to me. I have an idea," Amber said as she rose from her seat. With a seething glance in my direction she breezed past both of us, leaving me shocked beyond my own comprehension at the naughty words that were still ringing in my ears.

"Ya need me to pick your jaw up off the floor or...?," Sam asked me with a grin on his face. I sputtered.

"What the hell?"

"Seems like she got her groove back. Maybe that spell helped a little," Sam told me with a shrug.

"What kind of a plan could she have for a _strip club?"_

Sam just shook his head and shrugged.

"I don't know, but she's done a fine job working cases ever since Willow cursed you two. She'll be fine, Dean. Gotta let her live and learn," He said.

"Easy for you to say," I grumbled as I put a beer to my lips.

He choked out a laugh.

"You think so, huh? Maybe I've just come to realize that she's stronger than you give her credit for."

Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn't, but all I could fucking think about was the way she'd mouthed the word _fuck_ and the fact that my cock was harder than granite.

"Yeah, maybe."

(Amber)

The fight was awful.

The witch had caught us at the very last second, which hadn't been my fault, but the frown that Dean had thrown my way told me he thought it _was._

My hands shook as Sam worked carefully to stitch up a wound on my arm that came dangerously close to my left breast. He had my shirt thrown over one shoulder while he worked, his large fingers lacing my skin diligently and expertly.

"I think I need to see Asher," I said softly.

His hazel eyes jerked to mine and he stopped moving.

"What?"

"I think I need to see him. In prison."

Sam's eyes didn't stray from mine as he continued to fiddle with the needle in his hand.

"Are you sure?"

His tone was gentle, as it usually was, and I sighed.

"I think I need closure. I've been having nightmares lately, and I-I'm starting to realize that if I don't _see_ him in prison, if I don't see that he can't hurt me, I'll always be looking over one shoulder."

Sam resumed his work, and his free hand handed me a glass of whiskey to take the edge off. I swallowed it in one go and he smiled at me.

"I remember when that would make you grimace. Now you swallow it like an old pro," He said with a laugh.

I looked at the empty glass in my hand and smiled too.

"I'm sorry that I got hurt."

He frowned intensely.

"You saved my life, Bambi. I'm pissed that witch took a cheap shot at you, but I'm grateful. You didn't have to do that," He said.

"I did too, and you know it. You would have done the same for me."

"I would have. So why are you sayin' you're sorry?"

"Dean's pissed at me for stepping in front of you," I said softly.

Sam huffed out a breath and shook his head, his long hair falling in his eyes as he did so.

"Don't listen to anything that salty jerk says right now. He's pissed at himself, not at you."

"I didn't mean to cause so much trouble," I admitted sheepishly. I felt the tears sting the backs of my eyes, and I knew that if I let myself, I would cry like a fucking baby.

Sam dropped one hand to my thigh and shook his head.

"Hey, stop. We've all fucked up one way or another. Didn't Dean ever tell you about the time _I_ brought on the apocalypse? It's his favorite story to tell about me," He said with a grin.

I bit out a laugh and ducked my head, setting my glass down on the table beside me.

"You think he'll ever stop resenting me?," I whispered.

Sam's hazel eyes told me more than he was willing to say out loud; that he knew what I meant, that he understood, and that he too, had no idea.

"I think I'm going to leave soon. This week," I said.

Sam's eyes narrowed.

"You're not going back to Texas alone, Amber. We'll take you. We've been working non-stop lately, and we could use the break."

I stiffened, shaking my head no immediately.

"I could never ask you guys to do that. Besides, who's to say Dean won't convince you to leave me there anyways?," I joked.

"Leave you where?," I heard from behind me.

Sam's expression told me that Dean had just joined us, so I repeated myself.

"I'm going to Texas."

"Is that so?"

"Dean, this isn't up to you. It's her choice," Sam said.

"She's drunk, she doesn't know what she wants!," He argued.

"Hello, I'm right here. I can speak for myself. I need to see Asher, Dean. I'm _going."_

He scoffed, sitting in a chair across from me.

Suddenly Sam's hands on my bare flesh made me uncomfortable, and only because of the way that Dean watched him as he stitched me up.

"Not alone. We'll take you. You can decide what you want to do from there," Dean said. His tone was suspiciously soft, almost like he'd already decided that he wanted to me stay behind.

Well, that was an entirely different tune than he'd had five seconds ago.

"Sounds to me like you _want_ me to stay behind," I remarked.

He shrugged his wide shoulders and the gesture slowly killed me inside.

"You know where I stand with this, Amber. You're too good for this life. I think you should get as far away from it as you can," Dean told me.

"Hold on a second, Dean, this is _her_ decision! We aren't just going to kick her out of the bunker," Sam argued.

"No, but she asked if I thought she should stay in Texas. I think she should."

Sam was just cutting the last of the dental floss apart, so I hastily stood and shakily thanked him.

"I'll let you know what time I want to leave tomorrow," I said.

" _Tomorrow?_ ," Sam asked, shocked.

"Yeah. That sounds about right to me, idgit."

His gaze softened as he heard the nickname, as it floated in the air between us.

I didn't spare a glance as Dean as I headed towards my room, trying as hard as I could, not to cry.

 _He wants me gone._

 _He really wants me to leave._

What do I do?

What _could_ I do?

I heard a soft knock at my door and turned to see Sam watching me.

"He doesn't mean it the way it came out."

I shrugged again, turning back to my dresser.

I began to pull clothes from the drawers before I heard Sam's soft plea.

"Don't leave. If you leave, he'll never recover."

I began to laugh because it was either that or let the tears choke me; but they overflowed anyways, and the next thing I knew, I was cradled against Sam's warm chest as I fought for air.

"I've been having dreams, Sammy. This man, your friend Bobby? He keeps showing up," I admitted.

Sam pulled away from me, his brow furrowed.

"What do you mean? What does he tell you?"

I looked down at my hands in my lap and glanced at him.

"He tells me stories sometimes, but they don't always come out clearly. But he keeps telling me the same thing over and over and _over,"_ I said.

"What?"

"He keeps saying, ' _I sent them to Texas,'_ and I have no idea what that means," I said frustratedly.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Sammy began to smile.

"I think I do."

I looked at him, waited for him to explain, but instead he stood.

"You'll go tomorrow. You'll get the closure you need, and then you'll come home. _Here._ I'll let you rest, but Amber?"

I looked at him, waited for him to continue.

"Tell Bobby we miss him, a lot."

I smiled, laughing away the rest of my tears.

"He knows, Sammy. I tell him all the time."

His smile, filled with gratitude and admiration, was gorgeous.

And it made my impending journey a little less daunting.


	13. Chapter 13

(Amber)

Dean hadn't said a word since we'd started driving, and honestly, my stomach was in knots over it. I watched him from the passenger seat, completely aware of the fact that he'd rather be _anywhere_ but sitting beside me.

It hadn't taken a genius to figure that one out either, not with the way him and Sammy had screamed at each other before we left four hours ago.

Screamed?

More like almost fucking murdered each other...

"Are you hungry?"

I cleared my throat before I shrugged.

"I could eat."

 _Lies._

I couldn't stomach the thought of swallowing anything other than my pride when I admitted to myself (repeatedly) that Dean obviously had no more feelings for me, if he ever even did. Since last night I'd been dissecting any non-spelled moment we'd spent together, and I was slowly coming to the realization that I was...stupid.

I was a stupid, foolish, young girl with a crush on a man twice my age and way out of my league.

Dean was an ocean that could drown me, and you know what the sad part was?

I'd let his current sink me like a lost ship.

I would gladly let his undertow sweep me up in it's turbulent arms and sink me.

He didn't say another word as he pulled into the parking lot of a highway side diner and I sighed with relief when the warm, tepid air met my face. The sun was just starting to set and I smiled when I caught the pretty colors blending together on the horizon. Every mile closer we got to Asher, was another mile closer I got to closure.

Yet, on the other hand, every mile closer to Asher was another mile farther from Dean. I knew it, he seemed to know it, but Sammy had threatened bodily harm to both of us if I wasn't in the impala when Dean returned to the bunker.

Them fighting, especially over me, made my entire being crumble a little. But sammy was like a fucking dog with a bone, and no matter how hard I fought him this morning he refused to listen to reason.

"Let's eat," Dean said softly.

I hurriedly slipped from the vehicle and stretched my arms above my head.

I turned in a slow circle, taking in all of the sights; a small town, a setting sun, and one gorgeous man I was helplessly in love with that may never touch me again.

But he'd saved me.

And I knew that after what Asher had done to me that I could survive anything.

"Why're you smiling like that?"

I huffed out a laugh and tipped my head back, watching the sun float down the horizon slowly.

I turned to face Dean, slapping my hands on the hood of the car.

His handsome face was drawn down into an almost smile, but I didn't let it bother me.

"I'm smiling because even if you _hate me,_ even if I wake up tomorrow and you decide to leave me on the side of the road, _even if_ I watch that sexy ass of yours hop into this car and drive away forever...I know I'll be okay."

His green eyes went wide as I shrugged again and stepped onto the sidewalk, entering the diner and leaving him behind to watch me.

I didn't stop to look behind me, I didn't bother waiting for him to join me. Instead, I took a seat in a booth near the rear exit and smiled when a waitress approached me. She was pretty, tall and brunette with big green eyes. She smiled kindly at me, her eyes flicking to the bruises that lined my cheek from the witch hunt that went bad yesterday.

I smiled at her, taking the menu she held out.

"Can I get you started on anything?"

"Yeah, I'll take a beer."

She motioned for me to show her my fake ID, which I did, sighing with relief when she smiled in appreciation and headed back towards the kitchen.

Not a lot of diners served beer, but more than a few farther north had begun doing so, and I was grateful.

The flask Sammy had given me had gone dry two hours ago.

I heard a soft ding and then the familiar tread of Dean's boots met my ears as he rounded the booth and slid in across from me.

Our waitress, Candy her nametag read, smiled when she saw him.

I took the beer she held out to me gladly and began to swallow it immediately, ignoring the glances from both her and Dean.

Her rosy lips upturned into a familiar smile when she batted her eyelashes at Dean. It tore through my insides when he returned the smile, but I ignored the pain. I ignored it and buried it, much like I had been for weeks now.

As soon as I ordered a burger and Dean did the same (with extra bacon because he's a pig) she flittered away and I looked at my empty beer bottle.

How long until I could order another one?

"Is that really necessary?," Dean hissed, motioning towards the bottle.

"Well, I am meeting the man who tried to split me in two with his dick and a very disturbing list of other objects tomorrow, Dean. Excuse me if I need a little liquid courage," I said waving towards Candy for another.

She nodded with a smile, her green eyes straying towards Dean as she moved towards the back.

When I looked back at him his expression had darkened and he was staring down at the cracked table top, picking at his thumb nail.

"Why do you want to see him again if it hurts you?"

I wanted to tell him that I ask myself that question about _him_ every day, but I didn't. I swallowed that response and shook my head.

"None of your business."

His gaze shot to mine and he was about to scold me no doubt when Candy returned with another beer for me.

"The limit is four beers per person, just so you know."  
"I'll make sure to swallow this one real slow," I said.

She nodded before she turned away and headed back towards the front of the diner.

"I'm driving your ass all the way there, I'd say that makes it my business," Dean said.

But his tone wasn't right.

It was edgy and irritated and _sad._

"Sorry, cowboy. Not gonna talk to you of all people about this," I said swallowing more golden courage.

He sat back against his side of the booth and watched me; studied me with hungry eyes. Like he was memorizing my curves, my planes of skin, my edges.

"What happened here, Amber?"

I knew he meant what happened to us, but he was too chicken to say it out loud. He was too scared to ask me what he really wanted to know.

"Same thing that always happens when a women gets tangled up with you, I reckon."

His brow furrowed and he dipped his head.

He didn't ask me to elaborate, and I knew that he wouldn't. He didn't need me to.

"Sammy really cares about you, ya know. He wants you to come back to Kansas when this is all over."

I eyed him over the rim of my beer, nodding, even though I was fighting back tears at the very mention of it.

"I'm well aware."

He practically growled under his breath before he leaned forward and glared at me.

"You got somethin' you wanna say to me, Bambi?"

I felt a malicious smile take my lips captive as I leaned forward.

"You couldn't handle any of the things I wanna tell you. And don't fuckin' call me that. You're not my friend."

The hurt on his face made me feel legitimately remorseful. I instantly regretted the words, but in all these past weeks, he'd made no move to rectify the situation between us. He hadn't once tried to fix things so the anger I was feeling was coming to a boiling point that could rival the mark of cain.

"You don't mean that," He choked out.

 _No I don't._

 _I love you._

My temper deflated slightly as I pressed the bottle in my hand to my mouth in an effort to quell the tears threatening to choke me right there in that vinyl booth.

I slammed it back down on the tabletop, watching as a few drops landed on the back of Dean's hand.

"I suppose you're right. But it doesn't change anything," I said as I stood.

I tossed a twenty onto the table and straightened my shoulders before I left him sitting in there to wallow in his own misery. I couldn't handle the silence, the tension, the understanding that tomorrow _everything_ was going to change again.

I'd only just gotten myself a home, a family, a place that I _belonged_ and suddenly it was all going to disappear.

 _It's not fucking fair!_

I took a walk around the side of the building, hoping to gain a little privacy as I wiped at my crying eyes and tried to suck in a breath through my lungs that _didn't_ absolutely ache.

Everything had gotten so fucked up I couldn't stand it.

I couldn't stand this _unknown_ level of limbo that Dean and I seemed to be dancing towards.

The phone in my pocket began to ring and I hurried to answer it.

"Hello?"

" _Hello, my lovely dove."_

"Crowley, to what do I owe the pleasure?," I asked.

I heard a rustle, felt a tickle, and turned to see he was standing right behind me.

"Dean's inside if you want-"

"I'm not here to see Squirrel. Rowena sent me to you, poppet. She wanted me to ask you if the effects of the spell had worn off yet."

His suit was immaculate, his amber eyes were .

"You don't look so good, Amber."

I didn't hear Dean coming to find me yet, so I looked at Crowley and sighed.

"The spell is over. I don't feel anything," I said honestly.

"Except you do, don't you?"

I shook my head.

"You didn't teleport all the way here from your comfy throne in hell to ask me about my _love_ life, did you?," I asked.

His expression turned to a curious one, one I hadn't seen from him yet.

He clasped his hands behind his back and I waited for him to reply.

"I'm afraid not. I need you and Dean to make a pit stop if you would."

I frowned, shaking my head.

"Crowley, I don't even think I'm going back to Kansas with Dean. I'm going to get some closure in Texas, and then I'm gone," I explained.

He tsked.

"You'd leave us all behind, just like that?"

I scoffed.

I shook my phone at him.

"You've obviously got my number. Don't act like it would be so hard to find me if you really wanted to. Besides, I think it's time to move on. This was fun while it lasted, but this life ain't for me," I lied.

His eyes narrowed in on me, and I could tell he knew I was lying.

"Amber Bennett, you're lying to me. I can smell it on you. Lying is a sin, do you want to end up down under with me?," He asked with a grin.

"I don't think I'll have much of a soul left by the time I'm ready to play with you," I said with a grin.

His chuckle echoed in the space between us, but he nodded his dark head.

"Very well. I called our beloved Moose before I came to see you, Amber. He expressed his...fears about you not returning with Dean. I have a little parting gift for you," He told me seriously.

 _Sammy knows?_

 _Fuck, they all do._

I frowned when he held out a piece of paper to me with an address written on it.

"What's this?"

"That, my dear, is an address. You said you were going to Texas for closure, correct?"

I nodded.

"Tell Peter I said hello, and that I can't _wait_ to meet him," Crowley said with a feral grin.

My stomach fell to the floor when I realized what he was giving me- Peter's address. So I could close this chapter of my life, and I hadn't realized until that very moment that I _needed_ that.

Impulsively, I hugged him to me, crushing myself against his chest.

"Thank you, for everything."

His arms came around me slowly, but he patted me gently when I pulled away.

"It's a shame, really. I thought you were good for him," He spoke softly.

I dropped my gaze to the ground.

 _Tell me about it._

"Yeah, me too."

When I looked up, he was gone, but I knew that he would be. Crowley didn't stick around for much, but the piece of paper in my hand was almost too much to bear.

What the fuck could I even say to him?

Peter.

 _Peter._

He'd sold me, literally _sold me to die._

 _What do I do now?_

I heard gravel shifting and turned to see Dean coming around the corner.

"What are you doin'?"

The expression on his face couldn't fool me though. I _knew_ him. I knew by the tilt of his head that he'd heard everything.

So I lied.

"Taking a breather. Let's go," I said.

His eyes widened when I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and lit it, sucking in a throat full of nicotine and closing my eyes as I moved around him.

"When the hell did you start smoking?"

"Doesn't matter."

He swore and wrapped a hand around my arm, yanking me closer to him.

"Don't do this. Don't lie to me. Why would Crowley be visitin' you out of the blue?," He asked.

So maybe he hadn't heard everything, and I was fine with that.

In fact, I was _thrilled._

Elated.

 _Defeated._

My chest heaved when I tucked that tiny of piece of paper into my pocket and swallowed another mouthful of smoke.

"He wanted to bring me a little parting gift, that's all. Wanted to wish me well."

His eyes narrowed and filled with something akin to sorrow and I wished like he wouldn't look at me like that.

"Parting gift?"

"It's getting late. I want to get this done. _Let's go,"_ I demanded.

He seemed to understand that he wasn't getting anywhere and dropped my arm.

I sighed with relief and slid into the impala, tossing my cigarette out the window.

My phone went off again, but this time it was a text message from Sammy.

 _Sam: How's it going?_

 _Me: Great. Getting back on the road._

 _Sammy: See you when you get back!_

 _Me: Can't wait :)_

Lying to Sammy almost killed me, sure, but I sucked in a breath and laid against the door when Dean started to drive again.

I could feel Dean's gaze on me more than once, but I was too tired to fight. It wasn't until I was right on the precipice of sleep when I felt a warm hand on my thigh.

 _Dean's hand._

But I was already drifting, so I missed the murmured promise he spoke aloud.

I didn't hear him speak the words we both knew I needed to hear.


	14. Chapter 14

(Trigger Warning for this chapter)

(Dean)

She hadn't spoken a word since I'd carried her inside the motel room last night. She'd awoken shortly after, claiming she needed a shower, but that was it.

Nothing else.

She looked so damn beautiful in her pencil skirt and cardigan, I wanted to bend to my knees and beg her forgiveness. But she didn't want to give that to me either, and I couldn't blame her.

I couldn't.

She was wringing her hands together as she studied her reflection, and I wondered for the millionth time, what she was looking for.

"You look perfect," I said before I could stop myself.

Her eyes met mine briefly in the mirror before she slid in a pair of fake pearl earrings, sighing as she did so.

"Thanks," She murmured.

It didn't ring sincere and I hated it.

I hated that I'd let her down, that everything between us had fallen to pieces.

I could see her fiddling with that damn piece of paper in hands _again._ She refused to tell me what it was, what it pertained to, hell I couldn't even get her to speak a full sentence to me at this point.

"I'm ready," She said.

She didn't sound ready, but I knew better than to press her; we were getting ready to visit the very man who had brought us together under the guise of being federal agents. She had to be falling apart inside, and so was I, because I wanted to comfort her and tell her it would be alright, but it wouldn't...

Would it?  
She planned on leaving me; that much I'd gathered from overhearing her and Crowley last night. It still irked me to high hell that she was willing to listen to that smarmy bastard yet she couldn't look me in the fucking eyes.

I followed her outside, handing her the fake ID she'd used countless times before now.

As she buckled herself into her seat I could see her hand shaking.

I swallowed my pride and took one of her hands in mine, hoping she wouldn't pull away- she didn't.

Instead, she gripped my fingers tightly as I turned on the car and rolled out of the motel parking lot. We weren't far from the prison, maybe a ten minute drive. She didn't have very long to get her head on straight.

Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck and she hadn't applied any makeup.

She didn't need it.

She looked beautiful, as she always did.

The skirt and sweater she wore clung to her curves in just the right way, giving me a full view of everything my hands were yearning to hold.

I felt a gentle tug and watched as she pulled her hand from my grip, turning to face the window.

I could feel all the walls closing in on us as we drove, fully understanding that she wanted to leave as soon as this visit was over. I knew she wanted away from me, but the effort she put into hating me, well it was admirable.

"I'm here for you," I said.

Her mismatched eyes met mine momentarily before she turned away again.

"You can wait in the car for all I care, Dean."

 _Damn._

Her words, while expected, cut straight to the core of me and I wanted to shake her. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, tell her that I _loved_ her. She had no mercy for me, none at all.

As the prison came into view her whole body stiffened. I ached to hold her, to tell her how strong she was, how _brave._

Her slender figure seemed even smaller as she shrunk in on herself.

I didn't like the way her eyes dulled as we neared the entrance, either. I didn't like the way her tanned skin dulled and dimmed as we neared Asher.

"Stop for a second," I said, tugging on her hand.

She turned to face me, her expression unreadable.

"I know things between us aren't perfect right now, but I want you to remember the talk we had before. If you need me after this, if you need me to hold you and keep you grounded, I will. I don't want you hurting," I admitted.

Her face became pinched and I could see the sheen of unshed tears welling in her eyes.

"Okay."

It wasn't a victory, but that one word, _okay_ gave me hope.

It wasn't a _no._

Flashing our badges got us into an interrogation room with Asher, and while Amber fidgeted with the pearls at her ears I watched her spine stiffen with every second that passed. Her expression gave nothing away, but I saw her flinch when the doors opened and a _huge_ man was ushered inside. I motioned to the guards, letting them know I wanted them to leave as soon as he was chained.

With deft fingers I made sure any audio and video recordings wouldn't be accessible, turning to watch Amber as she turned to face Asher.

I studied him; he was built like a linebacker, but he wasn't unattractive. Black hair peppered through with gray, blue eyes. He was intimidating in his own right, sure, but he wasn't anything to write home about physically.

I watched recognition dawn on his face the second she took a seat across from him. Her expression never wavered, not once.

"You...You're supposed to be dead!"

She smiled, genuine amusement flashing in her eyes.

"Yeah, bet you thought that, didn't you?"

The confusion on his face was a beautiful thing to watch, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was so fucking beautiful as she confronted and conquered another demon, another fear that had left her broken and shaking in my arms.

I would slay any monster that came for her, but this particular demon she had to exorcise all on her own.

"You called the police."

She studied him too, tilting her head to the side as she did so.

"You're not as scary as I remember. Not as big either."

A feral snarl possessed his lips and he jerked against the chains.

"You weren't sayin' that when my cock was buried in your ass, rippin' you to shreds!"

His words made me flinch, but she didn't even look phased.

All of a sudden the scared girl from the car disappeared, the sweet and quiet woman I'd fallen in love with evaporated. In her place was a woman I'd never seen.

"I barely remember the feel of you between my thighs, Asher. In fact, remembering what you did to me only _bores_ me."

His grunt of anger was swallowed by the sound of his chair scraping roughly against the floor. The chains around his hands and feet clanked loudly as he swore at her.

"You mouthy little cunt, you obviously didn't learn your lesson! How the hell did you get here, anyways? You workin' with the FBI?"

"Now now, Asher. Don't ask questions you don't really want the answers to. I heard you're going to be stuck in here for a very, _very_ long time," She said with a smirk.

He was practically salivating he was so angry, but she kept on.

"I've got myself a real man now Asher, and he's erased every trace of you from my body. He _worships_ me with his cock. He makes me come unraveled with barely a touch," She said huskily.

He cursed her name and shook his head.

"You lyin' bitch! No one can come back from what I did to ya. I fucked you every which way from Sunday, and you won't forget it. It'll haunt you, forever. When you're lyin' in bed next to some vanilla-white-bread man. Just when you're feelin' good, you'll remember the time I tied you down and whipped you until your skin frayed. The time I fucked you raw with my favorite baseball bat. The time I made you swallow my cock until you vomited all over those pretty tits of yours," He spat sadistically.

I couldn't take it.

Hearing those words, knowing that those things happened to her, it made me want to slit his throat with the first blade.

I slammed my palms against the table, _hard,_ and narrowed my eyes.

"You sadistic bastard. You think hurtin' a little makes you a man? I'd like to get five minutes alone with you, just _five_ fuckin' minutes, and _you'd_ be the one gettin' fucked by the hard end of a baseball bat," I spat.

His eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, but he scoffed.

"This your new play toy? Ya got the hots for my sloppy seconds?"

His words lit a fire under my skin that I couldn't quelch. I couldn't ignore him any longer, not at all, so I did the only thing I could do.

I kicked him right out of his chair and kneeled on his chest.

"You- you can't do this!," He choked out as he struggled against my hold with everything he had.

I hissed and slammed his head back against the cement floor, oblivious to the small hands tugging at my suit coat.

"You look at my face, you sick bastard. Look at it! The _only_ reason that I'm not blowing your brains out all over the floor is because you're already dead. You're gonna spend the better half of your miserable life in jail. You're gonna have your ass handed to you a hundred times over, and believe me, I'll make sure of it. Whenever you get a stiffy thinkin' about Amber, whenever your brain even _thinks_ her name, I want you to remember my face, because I'll kill you. If you ever even _dream_ of making contact with her, I will _kill_ you."

He was slowly turning purple from the lack of oxygen and his struggles, so I let up, only to see two guards watching me with grins on their faces. Amber was pulling on me hard, and she had tears in her eyes.

Asher coughed beneath me as I stood, attempting to wiggle away from me as far as he could, but the guards grabbed him underneath his arms and yanked him to his feet.

"You done here, Agent?"

I nodded and they peeked at Amber who was facing away from us.

"Wait."

Both guards paused and turned to face her, Asher in their arms. His gaze barely even traveled over me before he was staring at the ground. I could practically smell the fear wafting from his skin.

Amber moved around me as she ambled towards Asher, a severe frown on her face.

"You lose."

Two words; two words never made a man go so crazy.

Asher attempted to escape from the guards, but they had him locked down tight. Their grip would have broken a smaller man's arm, but Asher was a big man.

A big man I would _love_ to slice open, but Amber didn't need my help.

I knew that, I understood it, but it didn't make the urge I felt inside lessen any. No, I admired her strength and her courage. She was brave to come here, she was brave as hell to confront Asher. I admired her more than she knew.

I _loved_ her more than she knew.

(Amber)

I was trembling.

I knew it was foolish, I knew that Asher couldn't hurt me anymore, but seeing him in the flesh made my insides wither. My resolve had failed me more than once upon entering the small, cold room aside Dean, but I didn't want to fall apart. I didn't want either of them to see me self-implode, but believe me, the urge was there. In fact, it was strong as hell, bubbling just below the surface of my chilled skin.

From the moment I'd awoken every single cell of my body was pleading with me to forget about this and avoid it- avoid Asher.

Avoid the inevitable pain I'd be feeling later even though I knew that it was officially _over._

But that didn't change the fact that he'd known precisely what to say to remind me of the fact that he'd ruined me, torn me apart, singlehandedly disassembled me only to poorly put me back together.

Of course, Dean was trying his best to make me feel like I wasn't alone-even while fully understanding that I _was_ all alone- at least, that's what I'd thought before Asher had blurted out some of the things he'd done to me.

Now, as I watched him being pulled out of the room, as I watched Dean try to catch his breath after attacking Asher on my behalf, I realized that I was far worse off than I thought.

"Baby? Are you okay?"

His green eyes wouldn't meet mine, and it felt like a knife right through my heart.

 _He's ashamed of me._

 _He knows I'm tainted._

I wanted to cry, I wanted to let my face crumble as the tears escaped, but I couldn't. I turned towards the door, my spine stiffer than steel, and nodded.

"Fine, Dean."

I didn't wait for him to catch up to me.

I took off at a slow run.

I stumbled out of the nearest exit and fell to my knees, dry heaving.

The gravel dug into my knees and palms, my skirt rode up around my hips, but I couldn't stop. It was like a proverbial soul cleansing as my body rid itself, _finally_ of everything Asher.

The sound of my retching and my sobs was the only thing to keep my company as I tried to pull myself back together, but nothing was working.

It felt like all of my frayed edges were too far apart to tie back together.

It started to rain then, almost like the universe was crying with me or trying to cleanse me from the outside in, I don't know.

The heavy rain drops were chilly against my clammy skin, but I didn't mind it.

What I did mind was Dean Winchester, _Dean Winchester,_ the man I'm head over ass for, finding out all of the things that Asher had done to me. I couldn't even blame him for being disgusted either, because truth be told, I was fucking disgusted every time I caught sight of my reflection.

I knew that my makeup was running and that my hair was slowly escaping the bun at the base of my neck. I knew that my knees would be bruised, I knew that my palms would sting for the rest of the day.

I just didn't _care._

Seeing Asher hadn't brought me the closure I'd needed, even if it did fill me with a sick sense of satisfaction knowing he would live the rest of his days in misery.

I heard a heavy metal clanking sound behind me as the exit door slammed open and then closed. Heavy footsteps and then the raspy sound of Dean's voice.

"Are you okay?"

I couldn't answer just yet.

"Baby, say something to me. Please."

"I didn't want you to know all of those things," I admitted.

His warm hands wrapped around my forearms, pulling me to my feet.

I stumbled, but his arms snaked around my waist. I blinked through the rain, trying to read his expression: agony.

Pure, tangible, agony.

"I want to kill him. Do you understand that? I want to _kill_ him for ever laying his filthy fucking hands on you, Bambi."

I shook my head and looked down at my feet, but he nudged my chin up.

"That shit he said, the stuff he _did_ \- God, the stuff he did to you, it wasn't your fault. Do you hear me?"

 _He doesn't think I'm disgusting?_

I didn't say anything, so he smoothed the wet hair out of my face.

I could see his Jade eyes shadowed with pain, with raindrops (or tear drops) hanging from his thick lashes.

"Tell me you understand it wasn't your fault."

I shook my head, wishing for once that my mouth would work in accordance with my brain, but yet again I failed.

He ducked and cupped my cheeks in his hands.

Even though I could feel his warmth through the thin layers of my wet clothing, I was still shivering.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that? I still want you so bad I can barely think straight. Did you know that?"

I choked on my tears and shook my head.

"I'm disgusting."

His grip on me tightened and he pressed his body against mine.

"Bullshit. Even now I can see your perfect nipples pressing through your shirt, I can feel your soft skin against mine. Every time I open my mouth I can still _taste_ you, baby. God, I've never wanted anyone the way I want you," He said hotly.

His gaze was like a laser beam as it skated across my sensitive skin, making the heat finally seep back into my limbs.

"Even after what he said?"

He dipped his head and gently kissed the corner of my mouth.

"Especially after what he said. It just goes to show how strong you are, Amber."

I swallowed audibly, peeking at him through the curtain of rain that seemed to be swallowing us both.

"Then why did you give me up?," I choked out.

He swore and pulled me into his chest, wrapping those strong arms around my waist.

"Because you deserve better than what I can give you, baby. You deserve so much more," He said vehemently.

I cried into his shoulder, tugging on his suit jacket to keep me grounded. I didn't want him to ever let me go, I didn't want this moment to end.

"I don't want anyone else," I said softly.

"What?," He asked as he pulled back to look into my eyes.

"You stubborn bastard, I want _you._ I only want you."

He blinked, as if he couldn't believe me, as if he didn't _want_ to believe me.

"Amber-"

"No, stop. Don't push me away this time. You just heard the truth; something I never wanted to share with anyone, and you just heard it. Dean, believe me when I tell you that I understand why you're doing this. Why you're putting this distance between us. But I can't stand it anymore," I said honestly.

His eyebrows furrowed and I smoothed the wrinkles from his forehead with a wet hand.

"I love you, Dean. I love you in a way I'll never love another man, but I can't walk away from you until I know you don't feel the same way. I need you to tell me you don't love me back so I can walk away and hopefully, one day, move on."

He stilled altogether, his jaw ticking silently as he appraised me. The rain was the only sound around us as his nostrils flared in that way they always did when he was furious.

His grip tightened on me and he roughly pulled me against him, his hands falling to cup my ass.

"You really want the truth? Because I'm tellin' ya baby, once you get me you won't ever leave me. I won't allow it."

His words made the breath in the back of my throat exhale loudly as I waited for him to continue.

He pressed his forehead against mine.

"I love you so much it scares the hell out of me. I literally _ache_ for you, and this ain't anything new. I've wanted you since the moment you stepped in front of my headlights. I've tried to stay away from you, I promise I _tried._ I just can't. I know it's wrong, I know you've got so many better options. Sammy told me I should let you choose, but I just- I don't want you to choose me now and change your mind later," He said.

I shook my head, thankful that for the first time he couldn't see the tears lining my cheeks.

"You're the only choice I would never regret."

He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat before he brought his mouth to mine. I groaned, wrapping my cold fingers around his shoulders as he made love to my mouth. His tongue snaked into my mouth and drank me in like a man dying of thirst.

"I love you. I haven't said that to many people in my life-"

"Dean, please. Take me back to our motel room, and _make love to me."_


	15. Chapter 15

Only two chapters left!

(Amber)

If you'd asked me a few months ago if I saw Dean Winchester or anyone like him in my future, the answer would have been no.

How could anyone foresee someone like _Dean Winchester?_

He's a whirlwind.

He's a fucking _storm chaser._

Hell, he is the storm.

It felt that way too as we fell into our motel room, clawing at one another, panting against the humidity from the rain.

Dean's hands fell to my ass, cupping me through the tight material of my pencil skirt.

My cardigan was roughly shoved from my shoulders as he backed me into the room, kicking the door closed with a skill a man like him could have only gained from years of one night stands.

"Tell me this won't be a one time thing," I muttered.

He paused long enough to unclasp my bra and throw it to the ground.

"One night with you could never be enough," He rasped as he cupped my cheeks and slid his tongue between my teeth.

My heart was pounding in my ears, but I could still hear myself whimper when I felt his hard cock brush against my belly.

Both of us were soaked right down to our bones but neither one of us cared.

The heat rising between us was enough to create steam and a thin layer of sticky sweat.

"I never thought I'd taste your skin again, fuck, you taste so good," Dean whispered as his tongue trailed along the column of my neck.

I shivered against his hard chest, whimpering as I slid my hands beneath his jacket, pushing it from his shoulders.

It hit the floor with a subtle _woosh_.

His shirt came next and I worked like a madwoman to undo those tiny white buttons until the material fell open to reveal a pristine white t-shirt.

"Fuck, you smell so good," I said as I kissed his pulse point.

He grunted, his deft fingers working to unzip my skirt.

I got goosebumps as the material parted to reveal my white lace panties, a pair that I'd originally bought with him in mind. It made me giddy inside to know that he wanted to rip them off of me in the way I'd always fantasized about. His warm palms caressed my bare tits, cupping them, pinching my nipples in a way that had me gasping his name.

"That's right, baby. Tonight I'm gonna own that body. I'll erase the idea of any other man from that pretty head of yours."

I didn't have a chance to tell him that he already had, because his mouth wrapped around my nipple and the only coherent word I could even murmur was _yes._

His strong arms lifted me up against him as he slid my skirt down my hips. I stepped out of it as it pooled at my feet before I kicked it aside.

His tongue swept over the pebbled tip of my other nipple as he wrapped me in his arms and lifted me against him, wrapping my thighs around his waist.

Our mouths clashed like tidal wave, like a hurricane, like a tornado ready to suck out our souls. He felt like lava but he kissed so sweet and I could feel myself falling in love with him all over again.

Dean laid me out on the bed and spread my thighs, stepping back so he could gaze down at me.

"Shit baby, I missed this sight."

His voice cracked slightly and then he was dropping his shirt to the floor and unbuckling his pants.

I sat up abruptly, wrapping my hands around his.

He looked at me confused, wondering I'm sure if I wanted to stop, but I didn't- couldn't even if I'd wanted to.

He was mine and I was going to prove it.

"Let me," I said as I slid my palms against his strong abdomen slowly.

Those lusty green eyes were trained on me like he was the predator and I was his prey; but hadn't it always been that way for us? Him, a man who could kill _monsters_ with his hands and me, a tiny slip of a woman who could barely formulate a sentence without blushing...

We didn't make any sense.

Then again, some would say we made _perfect_ sense.

His skin tasted like sweet sweat and something that was all Dean as I leaned forward to kiss him. I suckled the skin below his bellybutton, earning a hiss and a tug on my hair. His fingers untangled my wet hair and pulled it from it's rubber band completely. I unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned his trousers, all the while trying not to completely lose my cool. I'd been waiting for this day for so long and it was finally _here,_ and what if we did this and he changed his mind-

"Baby? Are you okay?"

I fought the lump in my throat and licked my lips, glancing at him.

"Do you really want-want to do this with me-"

He kicked out of his pants and laid me back against the coarse bedspread, his fingers trailing up the insides of my thighs.

"You're literally the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and trust me, I don't see a lot of beauty in my line of work."

His words calmed me in a way that only he could and that was the kind of connection we shared.

It's what made us work so well.

"I love you," I whispered.

He slid my panties down my legs.

His movements were slow, calculated, like he wanted me to know exactly what he was doing to me.

He had no idea though that he made my blood boil, that he made my heart palpitate, that he made it hard to breathe with how badly I wanted him.

When the last glimpse of my white undies was gone he leaned forward and kissed my right above my pubic bone. His lips lingered over every silvery scar as he kissed his way upwards to my mouth. Dean wouldn't say it back, he never did-

"I love you, too."

Those four words were all I needed to hear to understand that he fully meant to take me, and that honestly, I couldn't ever imagine sharing such intimacy with anyone else.

His knees parted mine as he settled over me, and it was then that I realized he too was naked.

He brushed the hair away from my face, kissed the tip of my nose. His lips traveled over each eyelid, each cheek...

"I need you," I admitted.

His smile was genuine, true, and it made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"I've needed you for a long time, baby."

Not even a hint of hesitation could be heard as he said those words.

I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck and brought his sinuous mouth back down to mine, licking along the seam of his lips. He groaned as he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

Our tongues warred for dominance but soon it wasn't a battle, it was a dance, and both of us were in the lead. His hold on me loosened as he settled his arms on either side of my head. I could feel his cock sliding against the tender, swollen skin of my sex as he rolled his hips against mine. The gesture made me hiss his name, made me bite his bottom lip.

He interlocked our fingers as he looked down into my eyes.

And then he slid into me like it was always meant to happen this way.

Both of us groaned at the same time.

We both understood in that moment that what was happening between us was _real._

He felt so good, hot enough to burn me, but I'd never learn my lesson with Dean Winchester. I'd let him drag me down to hell with him as my torturer and it _still_ wouldn't singe me the way his touch did.

Just when I thought the coil in my belly couldn't wind any tighter, just when I thought he was giving my body a taste of the most lethal pleasure possible, he lifted my left hip and hit me from a deeper angle that made me _keen._

My nails scraped along the skin of his spine as he began to thrust into me faster, _faster_ , until his name was the only thing on my mind and his dick was the only truth I needed.

"Yes, _yes,_ don't stop," I pleaded as he tugged my head back by my hair.

His grip on my blonde tresses was so hard I thought he'd rip out a clump, but he continued to bite along the arch of my neck in a way that made my stomach clench right along with my pussy.

"Damn it Amber, you feel so fuckin' good. I need you to come, baby."

His words were followed by his talented fingers that began to circle my clit with expert precision.

I could feel the tingles in my knees working their way up, spreading that potent electricity that sparked between us like crazy.

"Come on, come for me."

His words started the avalanche of pleasure that buried me beneath it's depths and threatened to consume me whole. Through my own haze of rapture I could hear Dean whispering my name hot jets of his cum painted me from the inside out. I'd never had a man come inside of me before, but with Dean, I wasn't worried.

Both of us were panting when he slid out of me and rolled us onto our sides, his arms still around me.

"Fuck, that was amazing."

I felt myself blush as the haze cleared and we floated back down to earth.

"Yeah, it was."

Dean smiled as he leaned forward to kiss my nose yet again.

"Are you okay?"

His words surprised me at first.

 _Okay? More like perfect..._

"Yeah, I think I am."

He nuzzled closer to me, making sure our bodies were as close as possible before he spoke again.

This time, his words surprised me, and the shock didn't level out as he eyed me.

"I know about Peter. I know that Crowley gave you his info."  
I smiled against his tanned skin, amazed yet again by his intuition. He was smarter than he gave himself credit for, smarter than he'd ever believe, but I loved that about him.

"And?"

"I can't let you do whatever it is you're plannin' on doin'," He said softly.

He tipped my head back far enough so I could see into his eyes, see how serious he was.

"I can't let anything else happen to you, understand?"

I ran my fingertips along the seam of his mouth, so grateful for everything he wanted to do for me, for everything he'd already done.

"You know I can take care of myself."

"But I want to take care of you, that's what I'm here for."

I swallowed my tears and leaned forward to kiss him.

"Maybe, but I think it's time someone took care of you."

He didn't respond, no, but he _did_ roll me over onto my back and settle between my thighs. He _did_ thrust into me so hard it startled me, and he _did_ fuck me until there was nothing left to separate us, ever again.


End file.
